Below are my web blog updates from 2004, which saw the blog grow extensively in popularity. Hosting moved from freebie to paid for premium, plus in May the option to post personal comments for each individual posting were added.
Friday 31st December 2004
A strange way to end the year. Be called out on business,
across to Bedford for but nevertheless a necessary
meeting. As I headed home the sun was setting across
the hills of Dunstable to the east. The M1 southbound
was busy but moving steadily as my mind began to drift.
My mind reflected on the year about to pass and the
year ahead. Several months of difficulty but lacking
the powerful pain, I had felt so strongly in the past.
Yet, we showed our perseverance and overcame the struggles,
to find ourselves on the right course and very much
happy. Let me consider my happiness in greater detail.
No, I am not truly happy but more relived that once
more, all the pieces of the jigsaw have fallen into
place, and not a minute too soon. For someone bless
with little luck, I sometimes find myself amazed by
the smallest act of divine
intervention. Those who know me well, would consider
me to be a mild control freak. A fact I could not
argue with, yet the more I think about things the
more I feel stronger powers
are at work here, than those of my own mortal doing.
If things happen for a reason, then maybe just maybe
2005 will be the year which sees me taking bigger
strides on the journey of success.
Just a simple case of believing. Believing in myself.
As has become customary, I would like to wish all visitors to my website a
prosperous 2005!
Thursday 30th December 2004
Three months and four days had passed since our last
installment. Expectations were high, more so by the
extended marketing exposure given this time around.
Rather than billboards on the tube, there had been
lavish television spots on the build up to the big
day. The posters bore a striking resemblance to the
final two from the Matrix
trilogy. However, before I get to the action, let
me start at the beginning. As soon as I saw the trailer
for the movie, I contacted Nav and asked if he wanted
to go and see the picture. He had been the one, to
introduce Hero
to me back in mid September 2003. Who was to know
that almost exactly twelve months later, we would
go and enjoy the experience on wide screen, having
seen the first half on flaking VCD. The release date
was awkward to say the least. Boxing
Day. For a few weeks, it seemed that we would
be unable to catch the epic story at the cinema. Nav
was going to be in Manchester with relatives and would
not be coming down towards London for some time. As
chance would have it, Nav would be dropping his sister
down in Ealing yesterday and would be able to catch
the movie in the afternoon. As well made plans usually
do, things changed. Instead we decided to catch the
early evening performance, giving plenty of time to
allow from the journey from Lincolnshire.
I left Wycombe just before 4pm, to make sure I did
not get stuck in traffic on the A40. As usual, the
roads were relatively clear and I made great time
heading towards Ealing. I arrived just after 4.30pm,
giving Nav a call on his mobile. It was off, sending
me directly to his generic T-Mobile
answer phone. This was a surprise, because he never
has his phone off, unless unwittingly he has let the
battery drain away. I waited for a short while, a
few minutes more and then began to panic. Not a mad
panic, but a mild panic, considering the options open
to me if my friend did not materialise. Going to the
cinema on your own is an experience I would not like
to repeat, so therefore my plan was to wait until
5pm and then head over to the multiplex for a refund.
Then head home and catch the big game
in full. (Rather than catching only three quarters,
as would be the case). Just as I was giving up, I
looked out of my window and saw some bright headlights
heading towards. The car, I recognised, as it pulled
up directly in front of me. I smiled, my phone bleeped.
Delivery report received. Nav had finally switched
on his phone. We were present and correct and headed
over to Vue
in Acton. It was busy, but I found a parking space
quite quickly and headed into the foyer. There was
a large queue, one automatic ticket dispenser out
of action. My attempts to obtain our tickets from
the working machine did not work. No other option
but the queue. This was a bad evening for the staff,
the LCD information screen was out of action, so the
details of film availability had to be given verbally
(by leaving the safety of the booth). A man in charge
fixed the second ticket dispenser, jumping out of
the queue (a mistake) to once again attempt to have
my cinema tickets printed. Did not work. So, we had
to get back into queue to get our tickets. The clock
was ticking, the film started in 5.45 and we had a
few minutes to go.
Well after that episode or rather fuss over the tickets, I was actually looking forward to sitting down and watching the movie. With chocolate mint ice cream in one, hand and regular coke (with ice) in the other, I headed into the audiodoritium. Busy, but by no means full, we found some seats to the middle of the upper tear on the right. To compare The House of Flying Daggers with any other film I have seen, would be criminal. However, using Hero as a base has to be expected. My real criticism is with the storyline, although it did contained the customary twists and turns, even romance, it lacked the layered approached which made the previous film such a great success. The actors were average but it needed more star quality to get the passion across, as the story is based more on love than rivalry or a feuding battle. The direction is amazing, with some integral fight scenes and clever special effects. The plot is much more easier to follow although I think the ending becomes obvious far too quickly and then the pace slows down to compensate for the lack of action in these scenes. Shame because this could have been developed further. This got me thinking, why do people go and watch these films? The storyline come secondary to the action sequences. Therefore more time and money is spent on these parts of the movie rather than any other, which is understandable. You want to get as many people through the door as possible. I would therefore only recommend this picture to those who enjoy the genre. Otherwise you will leave disappointed.
I have been nominated as the best blog friend by Andrew Guilder. If you can recall this is the guy, I happened to sit next to on the National Express coach from Birmingham to Leicester exactly seven months yesterday. So feel free and vote. My blog of the poorest quality in comparison to the other five nominations. Make sure that comes into consideration when you place your vote.
Tuesday 28th December 2004
Why is it that during the festive period, we lose all sense of date and time. Does Christmas do something to the body clock that is shrouded in mystery? Perhaps even the great Dickens noticed this lapse in human attention at this time of year.
My long term love affair with remixes continues. Several months ago, I was
sitting in my car waiting to give a relative a lift,
listening to Kiss
100. It was a Sunday night and Mark Goodyear was
presenting the Smash
Hits Hit
List. It was at this moment, I heard for the first
time the Hi-Base remix of the Britney Spears ballad,
'Everytime'. Rarely does a remix improve the original
to a level that it becomes more radio friendly. Deconstructing the strong, the lyrics are far from definitive and the melody has greater power to the affect it carries the song. If
you look at the artist
and avoid the rest of the baggage
that comes with the brand.
She does poses a nice pair of lungs and produce the
perfect vocal. The dream voice for a DJ to remix.
My favourite song by the former pop princess is 'Born
To Make You Happy'. Maybe because she was on the rise,
but also the fact that my life was coming together
and for once I could look around and smile contently.
Shame to see such a great talent wasted on the three
taboos, s, d, and very little of the rock and roll.
As we find ourselves staring at the end of year, I believe it is time for me to be noting down great thoughts and reflections for 2004. Did the year live up to expectation or not? This is very difficult for me to say because I find myself having made so much little progress that I had hoped for. Maybe the fact that I have started my second job and am at the starting line again. Yes, overall the circumstances are for the better but the lack of time in the position means I have little to judge against and little substance to reflect upon. In time, experience I shall be able to give a greater insight. Many things happened this year in terms of my website. I moved host and actually started paying for hosting for the first time. Purchased a second domain name, hosting my second exclusively 'work' blog, firstly on Blogger and in recent weeks on my own personal hosting.
Those who recall my adventures from Saturday 25th September will be pleased to announced the next installment is scheduled for tomorrow morning (or possibly early afternoon). The venue and companion remain unchanged and the only noted difference is the title of feature. Hopefully I will be able to review events tomorrow evening, comparing my personal record with that of my friend on his online journal. I am hoping to go over to Central London later in the week and also over to Birmingham early next week, possibly Monday. Want to get everything in order before work starts over again. A trip to the Midlands would give an opportunity to test out my Pure DAB Personal digital radio on the road for the first time. Will keep you posted, all events are subject to change at short notice.
Saturday 25th December 2004
Tradition, the foundation for this time of year.
Sown into the very fabric of this country, our way
of life, our way of doing things, dare I be political
to utter the word, 'culture'. If there are two groups
of people that roam this earth, one set embrace tradition,
convention, the establishment. While the rest reject
it, to take their own path. I could never be anything
but a creature of habit, routine and ultimate dependence.
I have my reasons but then I am sure there are quire
valid reasons for you dreading your path. Each to
their own.
Yet, I find myself still longer to aspire to greater tradition than the reasonable
standard that I have already set. One such aspect
would be a seasonal visit to the cinema. Sure, I venture
to the multiplex at the wrong time of year. With the
summer heat striking down upon us, I am quite keen
to catch the summer's biggest blockbuster, rather
than anything else. Last year, there was one film
that I had to see. In my eagerness to I asked a close
friend if they wanted to go with me. Their response
was that it was not worth the visit to the cinema.
Disheartened, I allowed the opinion of another to
overpower my strong will, knowing also, that there
was not much time left to catch a screening locally
or even more closer to the actual setting.
My only excuse is that there is never the time to
fit in a trip to the cinema, even with the FilmWorks
a stepping stone away. Too many other things going
on and movies are much lower down the list of priorities.
Particularly when there are so many things to organize
and errands to run.
This year, in mid November I discovered that Sky
Movies would be making the digital premiere of
that very movie on Christmas Day. Joy filled my heart,
hoping that this would be an opportunity for the entire
family to sit down, in the evening and spend a few
enjoyable hours with sugary entertainment. Did it
happen? Well I am happen to report it did, actually.
(Yes a very poor pun, but in the circumstances and
considering the date, I hope you will be kind enough
to forgive me.) Firstly, let me state that I can fully
understand why people do not like this movie. Several
months ago, Clive Bull had this discussion on his
late night talk show on LBC
and the negative feeling regarding the Curtis production
was clearly evident. However, let me give my personal
response. At this time of year, we seem to cocoon
ourselves into our own little lives, surrounded by
our family, friends and loved ones. We seem to forget
how this can be the most difficult time of year for
many others. The film tries to get this message across,
and also establish the fact that not all love stories
have a happy ending. Although, anything shot under
the banner of the festive season has some poetic licence.
Yes, this film does showcase the brilliance of London
at this time of year and does this extremely well,
proving that Britain can match some of the more traditional
Christmas locations, such as New York, or exotic as
Sydney. Sometimes we go to the cinema to be frightened,
just like we jump onto a roller coaster to be pushed
to the edges of our physical boundaries. I believe
deep down inside all of us, there is a beating heart
that wants to be warmed. This evening, my heart was
gracefully warmed by the eight intertwined storylines
of this movie. There is little need for substance,
particularly when the image portrayed tells us so
much about the human soul. Can feel
good cinema get any better? Not really, but do
you know the reason why? Christmas is the most magical
time of year and sometimes, just sometimes dreams
can come true.
Friday 24th December 2004
Just a quick message before the festivities get into
full swing. I collected my cousins from Luton, this
afternoon and am looking forward to the big day tomorrow.
There is very little to write apart from wish all
my visitors to my blog, both old and new, a very Merry
Christmas.
Tuesday 21st December 2004
Sitting down into my friend's Mazada 6, I smiled with glee at the creature comforts, leather seats, satellite navigation and Bose in car audio system. I noticed a CD case, in the door storage panel, to my left and picked it up. The front of the case came off in my hand, coming to my attention that is had been broken previously. It was then that I finally turned the case around to see the cover. Pleasantly surprised to discover that this was not any old run of the mill. Although our friendship spans over ten years now, we rarely discuss music. To find the greatest and most popular album in his car was surprise to say the least. The previous evening had been spent perfecting a Christmas album for the ride and if you know me well, the shopping trip is a time I really get into the festive mood. Yet, I was holding a piece of musical history. This was the original 1982 release and although looked somewhat dated, hid well its twenty two year history. Maybe I would drop it into the CD player for a quick listen on the way home. Holding back my excitement in being able to hear the original masterpiece, I headed to Milton Keynes in near silence, with my mind drifted as much as the winding roads of Oxfordshire and North Buckinghamshire, on this bright winter evening. We stopped for fuel, seizing the opportunity, I inserted the disc but decided against listening to it there and then, quickly switching back to the seasonal bootleg I had created. Believe me, the crooner, Andy Williams grows on you, even with Christmas songs.
To those of you, whom have just rushed in that final coursework assignment before the Christmas holidays, you will spare thought for our lonely student. Searching my memory banks, I find it hard to discover a more ruthless example of the strange love/hate relationship between the student and their lecturer. Thank God those days are behind me. I am sure our University academic, will not find it difficult to produce a scenario which betters this one.
Last year I went Christmas shopping on a Sunday in
Oxford. This was a example of my poor judgment, berating
myself that such an lapse shall never occur again.
The original plan had been, like the rest of the of
the population
to leave it as late as possible. This had meant, Wednesday
22nd December (always tomorrow) was the original designated
shopping day. Then, when news came that I would not
been joining the dole
queue but had secured a job.
Plans, as they often do, had to be changed.
Sunday was chosen, because it was the only available
date, knowing there would be a few awkward purchases,
it would be best to have some company, particular
as he had several final purchases to make himself.
Where as I, hadn't even started. This is the only
time, I actually spend a day shopping in the real
world and actually attempt to make a 'day of it'.
The rest of the time, I shop online, from the comfort
of my own bedroom. Even things such as clothes can
be purchased online these days, why bother with the
hustle and bustle of the high street? Since my final
few years at school, I have had a strong anti-city
feeling, towards shopping districts. This may have
been bedded in my less than normal social nature in
my early to mid teenage years. To stop short of a
full history lesson, I avoided as much as possible
town or city centres on a Saturday purely because
of the hell they used to impose on me. This rule still
exists, even if slightly cloaked form. Yes, ever December,
like clockwork, this barrier disappears and I am once
more able to enter society and shop like the next
man. Although, of course I do not shop like anyone
else. I know what I want (already) make some quick
initial judgments, perhaps even slight changes on
brand or final product and make that purchase. I do
not have time to fussy around, like some other members
of the human species. This does save some time, when
you do all your planning and homework before you venture
out. Even someone as well organised as me still finds
it difficult to find gifts for some of the more, now
how to do I put this, more 'elusive' members of my
small family (small by Asian standards) No wonder
it has become the sixth
most stressful life event. Whatever, "life event"
means is anyone guess. I survived and got 85% of my
shopping done that day, just a few small problems
that firstly need some more thought and a quick purchase.
I intend to go down to Uxbridge in the next few days
to complete the haul. Thursday, can't come too soon.
On the way back to my friend's house, we did listen to that most complete of
albums, but I had no time for the early tracks. Criminal
of me, I agree, but there is some method in my madness.
The song that needed to be heard was to summarize
how I felt this Sunday afternoon, with Christmas drawing
ever so closer. The facts should speak for themselves.
Sometimes a song is bigger than the moment, rarely
is the artist great than the song and rarely even
still does the album mean more to the world than (regrettably)
than the artist. Sometimes, pure lyrics do little
to capture the moment.
Thursday 16th December 2004
It all came together as I was driven around into
the car park of my new office. My new working day
home. To say this was a different environment was
an understatement. I had gone, from (in my humble
opinion) the greatest
city in the world to this countryside
retreat. Well, that is not so much a clue as an
indication of where in the world I find myself and
what the future brings. Sometimes, the greatest postings
happen my accident and all the pieces of the jigsaw
fall into place, quite happily without the need to
be constantly wanting to write the perfect post. As
musings from last clearly show. A man trying to force
words of wisdom on a reluctant crowd.
A breath of fresh air. That is all I can say to describe
my first day at work. Firstly, I left the house half
an hour before I was due at the office. Unthinkable,
when a just five weeks previously, the journey would
have started an hour and half earlier, just to be
sure to make it to the office on time. As I pulled
out my drive, I glanced at the clock, 08:27. WOW!
Although there was some traffic built up on the A404,
there was little to fret. I still made good time and
was early (as one should always be). On your first
day, there tends to be certain home truths that come
home to roost. Things will be dramatically artificial
from another standard day. Having now experience 3
'first' days, the first two years ago and two, five
months apart this year. There is so much to take in,
people to greet and make comfort your seat. Of course,
people are nice, they don't want to let their guard
down and want to make you feel comfortable. They are
waiting for you to settle before they show themselves
out, which is understandable. Although I have noted
well, people being themselves and not putting on this
show, this facade for the new boy My last firm had
an extremely streamlined induction procedure, running
a tight ship and an extremely tighter schedule. Global
firms have experience and more importantly than that,
a "way" of doing things. The SMEs of this world, just
have big aspirations but not the wallet to match.
Yet, I find myself in a mixture of the two, or more
half
way house. Early days indeed but first impressions
build towards bigger and better things in the world
and therefore I need to quickly summarize my thoughts
and feelings. Not having a shadow
meant the day dragged and I did not pick up as much
as I could have but then again, there was so much
to take it, I think it will take me at least three
to four months to master the product. (The previous
version that is!) Just run me through the benefits
of bespoke
software again?
The major factor, rather than just the X Factor is the time of year I find myself starting work. Not just that its the most wonderful time of year. Joining when I do, I find my Mum finishing work tomorrow and my sister early next week. In the opposition direction, I find myself ending the stupid slump of the past few weeks and becoming dragged into the overwhelming world. Sure, the next few days are going to difficult and at times a struggle. I am prepared, (as well as I can be) for what can only be the start of a new challenge. Yet, I know deep down inside that the real battle begins in January, with the slate somewhat wiped clean and the future, not hanging in the balance, I never live my life in that way. I intend to, in the best possible fashion, prove once again, all the critics wrong.
Much of what has been written here, should have gone
on my 'other'
blog but this was a moment for personal reflection
and not just technical know how. The ideal will be
to have personal views and opinions on this site and
any usual bits of information on the other. Let me
know when I fail to do this.
As I got out of my German
ride, some words echoed out into the cool winter air
from the above average engineered radio, tuned to
the Irish
wonder. The waiting was over, my first day at work,
was about to begin.
All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside,
It’s hard, but it’s harder to ignore it.
If they were right, I’d agree, but it’s them you know not me.
Now there’s a way and I know that I have to go away.
Wednesday 15th December 2004
I have been using credit cards for the past five years
and am bemused by the new scheme of Chip
and Pin. Sure, the signature as a measure of authority
has been ineffective for decades but entering a pin
appears to have several flaws of its own.
As an organised individual, I am usually on the ball
with any new initiatives that are dished upon us.
I have to admit I have just been lazy. However, I
was told this afternoon, at Next
that from two months time, I will have to know my PIN
and that signatures will no longer be accepted. I
now need to develop a strategy for my PIN. I could
be naive and create a universal number for all my
cards, which would save me time but be a security
nightmare should I lose my cards and my PIN become
common knowledge. A more dogmatic and sensible approach
would be to have two or three PINs to use across three
or more cards. I am working on it, just need to work
out how I can re-request my PIN from all these issuers.
Almost a year in the making, I finally caught the
video for a track, I had been hunting down for several
months in 2003. Television broadcast from the subcontinent
takes precedent. Although we have switched in the
last ten months from being a household tuned to B4U
to the station Rupert
in 1993. Star is broadcast from India
but has a global reach. Just after 5pm, my Mum asked
my Dad to change the channel. When he chose 801 on
the Sky Remote instead of 804, I was pleasantly surprised.
This quickly turned to joy when I heard the family
beats of Kangna by Dr. Zeus. I had waited some time
to see the video in full, sure I had seen the Zeus
medley several times but that was cheap to say the
least. To be honest, I was disappointed, I had expected
more. The song has got now, almost a cult following
that it will go down as a classic, yet the video,
lacked effectiveness. No, perhaps it was not original,
unique, as the lyrics of the song make out. Describing
the unique relationship between yourself and the girl
on the dance floor with the sparkling bracelet.
I never rehash previous postings. I find that to
be meaningless and add little to the longetivity of
my blog, as a historical document. All day I have
been thinking long and hard of how to express how
I feel on this day. Late into this evening, I still
had little to write. Referring to my entry from Sunday
20th June before
I started my last job. There are times when you are
give the poetic licence to be arrogant and perhaps
even selfish and that is one of the finest examples
here. May have become a victim of my own success in
that respect, with words, imagery and stature that
cannot be fallen. Doesn't stop me drying. So, rather than summary my feelings
in a song, I am going to do something different. Recommend
a blog. This will only click with a selective few
in my audience. Memories of University, the rush to
get that first assignment completed on time and course
the all nighter to no avail. Take a step back to those
wholly corridors of academia.
Be afraid, be very afraid.
Monday 13th December 2004
It was billed as Judgment Day and it did not disappoint.
A result for Rupert and the boys
if nobody else. Let us focus for a few minutes on
the trails. Pinning Mr. Wenger and Mr. Mourinho against
each other as time travelling killing machines. My
Dad hates all theses trails, across the digital broadcaster
and not just for the big sports clashes. He would
prefer his subscription money to be spent on purely
programming and for the monthly installment be better
value for money. For me, however, the trails, spots,
are what makes watching Sky
so special. Sky
Movies did lead the way until a few years ago,
until the movie package was restructured for a purely
numbered approach, which of course does not work.
Give me Sky Movie Max and Premiere any day. The masters
in the editing sweet had worked over time for the
Sunday afternoon London derby though. Using the theme
music from the fantastic sequel
with images of the all star cast for this epic encounter.
There is always the possibility that the final spectacle
can never live up to expectations. Just look at the
battle of the buffet.
(Proves that the match was so important that the off
the field antics take precedent over the football).
For once, the perfect atmosphere was created, placing
me on the edge of my sofa, and the hair standing on
the back of my neck, as they teams came out on that
cold winter afternoon. The scene was set and within
minutes, the key battle would commence. Personally
I am glad the broadcasters still show such enthusiasm
for what can only be regarded as extravagant marketing.
Then again this is coming from a guy, who has always
watched the intro sequences for all the games I love
and actually live for them.
The game itself was played at lightning pace, and my nerves were settled early by Henry. Overall, I agree that this was a game we should have won. Of course draw is better than defeat but to be leading twice and then surrender your lead in such foolish ways is unthinkable. Arsenal were the masters of defending set-pieces. We just seem to be lacking concentration at the back and teams will exploit this unless we improve.
What I tend to do, as the end of the year draws near
is to look back at my entries from a year ago. It
was not exactly all songs in the street but the capture
of Saddam was a big turning point in the struggle
for Iraq. A year on there is still much work to
be done, and with elections around the corner, will
true democracy empower the people? This is not for
me to discuss such worldly life changing issues on
this blog of shameless self promotion. More suited
to the likes of Xercs
and Healing
Iraq. Leave it in your very capable hands, guys.
Purchased my Christmas Cards, on Sunday at Clinton
Cards as has now become an annual tradition. I
have stopped making long exhaustive lists on Excel
and tend to work from memory now. Each year for some
reason the number of cards I both send and receive
has been diminishing. Even I am not sending out such
examples of egoist
eccentricity With all the new technology and ways
of communicating, it is surprising that the traditional
Christmas card has lasted this long. Perhaps that
is an naive statement, as there will always be people
who want to send 'seasons greetings' on paper rather
than electronically. I agree with sending the odd
Christmas e-card, but anything via SMS represents
shortsightedness on behalf of the sender at least.
With or without royal
approval.
Talking of progress. Why are we so slow to taking up new technology here in the UK? At least there are hints of upcoming HD TV broadcasting. Japan leads the digital revolution and it is amazing to discover they have had high definition television has early as 1991. There is demand for a service which promises images that are six times sharper than current broadcasting levels. The truth is out there and being blogged. Then on the horizon is the next battleground. Just when you have finally completed replacing your VHS collection onto DVD and disposed of the ancient VCR. (How 1980s does VCR sound today?)
The rest of this week is just going to be a build to Thursday. I should make more use of my new blog and write something.
Friday 10th December 2004
Almost exactly six months ago, I had my second interview
with the City Law firm, whom I started working for
eleven days later. In a twist of fate, (or should
that be luck?) I find myself in a very similar predicament
once again. Following a successful second interview
yesterday afternoon, I waited patiently for the phone
to ring. I needed some good news. Time was running
out, I knew I could not spend any more time 'drifting'
at home. The break had done me some good but my batteries
were fully recharged and I was becoming restless.
When the phone rang, the smile on my face said it
all. Yet, there was more a sense of relief than just
pure elation. Looking for a job in January, would
have been an uphill struggle with my chances diminishing,
opportunities closing and the wealth of competition
increasing. To be frank, I would not have got a look
in. An interview would have been hard to come by.
This is the time the job market gets ugly. Not the
ideal time to be looking for a job. Though I have
consistently follow this argument, that there is never
a good time to be looking for a job (unless you already
have one, that is!).
Looking back to my blog entries from early June this
year, I looked for inspiration. What did I find? A
beautiful vision of life before the realism of working
in London came to light. I surprise even myself at
the quality, clarity and definition to my entries,
which at times, take even my breath away. Perhaps
that is being too arrogant and self-centred. Is that
what having an online journal does to you? You keep
looking at the centre, rather than the world around
you. Begging to differ, I take the text as it is meant
to be, a reflection of my life, feelings and mood
combined with the songs being listened to at a moment
in time. Yesterday afternoon, as I drove back from
my interview, the sun was setting across the Berkshire
countryside, I had a longing to record the moment
in my blog. This feeling has been missing of late,
and I have never felt such a strong compelling to
write. I hope this 'feeling' whatever it is, continues.
Unfortunately on this occasion, there can not be the
under cover surveillance will not be possible. If
I was to say, I am making a change in business environment
that would be an understatement. All I will say for
now, I may be far away from the capital but I am never
the less as far away from Royalty.
I have to point out one of the uncanny 'similarities' with June. That Sunday,
England played France in their opening Euro 2004 fixture.
This Sunday sees London rivals, Arsenal take on Chelsea
at Highbury. Arse
Blog has the latest. Yeah, I can hear you cry,
"big deal" but remember the result on that evening
in Lisbon
was very difficult to call. So what makes this classic
encounter so different? Time will tell. Doesn't
help with Rupert's friends hype it up as Judgment
Day. I will enjoy how Jose will deal with defeat
when he seems so confident of victory.
He has to remember it just a game.
Every once in a while, something happens in my life,
which turns everything around. To you, on the outside
this will seem like a strange way excuse to waffle
on about some insignificant highlight. Trust me and
stick with me on this one. All will be revealed. I
was in India in May 2001, with my family for three
weeks. The hotel we stayed in Argra was heavily advertising
for a local retail shop, situation down the main shopping
district, a stones throw away from the hotel. Yes,
the growing middle classes have an aspiration for
designer clothes, even in India.
If the truth be known, we never got to meet the legendary
green crocodile and at the time, it was not something
I would noticeably miss. Over three years later, I
watching television one idle evening. The adverts
are playing and I'm playing little attention. then
a beautiful young voice fills my living room and my
eyes switch in an instant onto the screen. Sure I
had seen the adverts for their perfume
but this was something else. Money had been spent
on this commercial and to great affect. They were
not so much promoting a product, as the brand. Natasha
Thomas, the sweet seventeen year old Dane takes the
vocal role, supported by the French tennis superstar,
Arnaud Clément. While some may argue
that celebrity endorsements do nothing for product
exposure, I disagree. You have to see the success
Mr. B. is having across the pond, where he is a relative
unknown and these fancy razor
blades are flying off the shelves.
A quick search around the web, I have only been able
to find the following, fansite dedicated to Natasha.
There is of course the official offering from the
suits, sorry I mean record label, Sony, if you prefer
something more fancy, polished and refined.
It is difficult to describe how I feel at this moment
in time. On a cold, winter evening, hearing this song
has warmed my heart. You really need to see the television
commercial to understand how I feel. Yes, maybe I
am fickle for letting a thirty second spot put my
head in such a spin but this is nothing to do with
the product, the beautiful location or the beautiful
people. It is all about the song. My initial reaction
on the first viewing, was, "what an amazing song!".
My response hasn't changed, only grown. Others will
say it is Over Now. But for me, I think this is very
much just the beginning.
You're walkin' the wire
Looking for love in between
But you don't have desire
Do you know what I mean?
What kind of love have you got?
You should be home, but you're not
I don't want to believe that it's over now
Tuesday 7th December 2004
Went to see the Incredibles
on Sunday evening, with my sisters. This must have
been the first time we had gone to the cinema as siblings
since Benji
the Hunted. That was over seventeen years ago,
the UCI Wycombe
Six has become the FilmWorks.
How times have changed. Managing expectations. That
is what must be difficult in not just the movie business
but the entertainment industry in general. I am a
big fan of computer animation, Toy
Story started it all. Then, went I went to see
the sequel
at the Warner
Village in Reading, it took everything to another
level. The intro scene was the best I had ever seen,
matching, in places, even my dear hero Bond
in his big release that same year. The concept behind
Monsters
Inc. two years later was inventive but at times
more directed at the young ones. Last year my friend,
Daz had presented me with a DVD copy of Finding
Nemo last year, just before I headed home for
the holidays. I attempted to kick start a viewing
of the animated underwater adventure three times,
each ending in disaster. My youngest sister was not
interested and I failed to light the imagination of
the rest of the family. Admitting bitter defeat, the
DVD disappeared behind the other DVD that materialized
on Christmas Day. Thankfully, the Disney
Channel are screening the British Television Premiere
on Sunday 19th December. Perhaps I was expecting too
much and was therefore left disappointment, yet I
do not want to give the wrong impression. The film
is great, hilarious in places and to a certain extent
original. However, the plot does have a minor flaw
and does cast a shadow over the whole experience.
Still go and see it and enjoy the movie for what it
is. Entertainment for the children, in the first respect.
Also, Disney
where are the out takes we have become so accustomed
to?
As I write this entry, Arsenal are beating Rosenborg, 4-1 at Highbury, securing themselves a place in the last 16 of the Champions League. Who said anything about a crisis? Bring on the Blues!
Friday 3rd December 2004
In between my two interviews today, I was at home
to grab some lunch. While scrolling around the music
channels on Sky
I came across VH1.
It had very much gone over my head, it was the final
day of the sacred Immortals Week. I had flicked through
the channel throughout the course of the week and
very little had been on worthy of watching. Of all
the certainties at college, there was one argument
which everyone knew Teg would fight to the bitter
end. While most of my peer group detested, the King
of Pop, you would be surprised to how many listened
to the one album
which reflects him most effectively as an artist.
That was then and today is a different story. Michael
has made several appearances on my site already, even
in the past year. Here he is again. Smooth Criminal,
which one of my dearest friends recalled as their
favourite MJ number. Watching the video again, and
hearing the beat of the music, I smiled as my mind
flashed back to a different time in my life. Maybe
I can't be sent back to 1985, but 1988 would be a
very close second destination.
I was surprised to see an e-mail from Paul, in my
Inbox. He rarely contacts me these days, with work
and other projects on the go, so he is not at fault.
I had e-mailed him on Wednesday following a quick
read of an article from the Next
Generation on Guardian
News Blog. Almost exactly a year ago, Paul had
given myself and Nav access to his treasure trove
of digital material on a secure hard disk. Among the
cartoons, mp3s singles, albums and software was a
gem. Providing us with a special preview and running
commentary on this particular video clip, I was surprised
to discover, William Shatner giving a smoky rendition
of Elton John's "Rocket Man" before a live studio
audience. This gem has not remained as elusive as
my ex-house mate had hoped. Now available to view
on the web by anyone who wishes to see such a act
of pop vandalism. Paul's response to my e-mail, was
anything but. Rather than discuss the dizzy heights
and success of Bill's pop career, he posed me a question.
Have you heard Michael Jackson's new single? Of course
I had not. I needed no invitation. I was away. I searched
the web, various fan forums and other avenues, I had
some of the answers but not them all. The single,
"We've Had Enough" is the final track on the recently
released, Ultimate
Box set. This 4 disc audio collection includes
rare studio demos and tracks that never made it to
the final album cut, plus an previously unreleased
DVD from the 1992 Dangerous Tour. Yet, armed with
all this information, I still had not heard the track,
so I headed over to the Sony
site and listened to a thirty second snippet. It started
to make sense, the fans had not been wrong (they rarely are). This was a return of something special. We wait for the resurrection. May that day be upon us soon.
Wednesday 1st December 2004
In an ideal world, I would have started writing a
blog/journal/online diary much earlier in life. Thinking
about it consciously the best moment would have been
the summer of 1999. So much was going on in my life.
I had just finished my first year at college, had
made a whole new group of friends. I had been working
for nearly a year and with this came a sense of some
financial freedom. Yet, at the time, I had a rather
pathetic excuse for a web site, which did little to
reflect my personality or uniqueness as an individual.
Suppose I had lost the appetite for computers and
the Internet. If you really want to know more, you
can a quick trip down memory lane via the Info
page. Site history is
there somewhere. Therefore in a way to redeem my failing
to start blogging, in my late teens, I am constantly
in the search for blogs by those of this age group.
In February this year, I joined the online community
for users of the Blogger
service. At the time, I had not used the blogspot
account I had created since July 2003, but always
felt that in time I would find a use for it. The Blogger
Forum, is the place to learn more about the potential
of blogging, receive hints from the veterans, advice
on templates and guidance on content. However, I saw
the opportunity to showcase my blog to a new audience
and get some feedback on what I should adjust. One
of the initial criticisms was the main font for entries
being too small, with many readers having difficult
reading, particularly some of the longer entries.
This was soon changed with a noticeable change in
the appearance of my site. Overall I had positive
feedback and was impressed with the friendly and almost
family nature of members of the group. Returning to
get some advice on templates, I was pointed in the
direction of various website to download or gain inspiration
from templates. One ideal afternoon, I was searching
the forums, looking at blogs when I came across this
rather interesting link.
Soon added the author to my MSN contact list and enjoyed
a quick conversation with him over the weekend. A
college student studying his A-Levels, is recording,
in my opinion a transitional period of his life. If
only that had been me, five years ago. Even if I had started a journal of some description as I started University, I would find myself in a much better position that I am now, I digress. Keeping an
eye on the progress on this journal and will seriously
consider adding Dave to my blog roll.
I am always on the look out for new blogs, whatever
their form, shape, subject matter or polictical stance.
Currently the eight blogs listed in my 'blog roll'
are visited on a daily basis with almost religious
conviction. Plenty of space for some more. So please get in touch yith your recommendations.
So a chance for the youngsters to prove themselves at the Theatre of Dreams tonight. Looking forward to the game this evening, there tends to be an air of less expectation on the youth, as they are still learning their trade. We know what the senior squad members are capable of, but with the juniors, it is time to showcase their talent, make a name for themselves and edge themselves into the starting eleven.
Sunday 28th November 2004
This must be a problem that faces many other of my fellow bloggers. What to include in this entry. What is so interesting that it can capture the imagination of my small readership? To be frank, my life is very dull, bland and at times characterless. Yet, I still somehow achieve to write about the things that are important to me, record and reflect. Contemplating is the most important thing. It is the only way I am able to come to terms with my predicament, and then move on with the tools that best equip me for the road ahead. Well, here I am. The clock has run out and little progress has been made. Sure, I may have the few potential nuggets of good fortune, this coming week but in the main I am not that further down the road, from where I was in late May.
Defeat. How do you deal with it? Some people deal
with it better than others for sure. Greater men are
moulded by suffering humiliating defeat but then still
having the gallantry to pick themselves up and have
great audacity to go into the next battle, with no
fear. This, test of character is not for everyone,
which is why I am a strong believer in the saying
that heroes are born, they made. Arsenal suffered
their second defeat this afternoon, at the hands of
Liverpool.
Quite innocently I have avoided discussion on the
subject of my football team. The talk of a drop
in form, lost points and key personnel missing,
tends to lower the tone and as much of a shock defeat
is to the system, it is never an excuse. My tendancy
during these dark times for any Gooner fan is to read
and reflect the view of our faithful blogger, over
at Arse
Blog. Visiting his site, on auto pilot every morning.
His words on November
23rd, solemnly written with words that ring so
true. Like a general about to lead his band of merry
men into battle, he concedes that the past few weeks
have been tough and that booing a team which has become
to a certain extend the victim of its own success
is not the answer. This is the time be counted, no
matter how you support the team and what you do. To
be hearing this from a fellow fan, was indeed soothing,
to know that someone else feels the way I do, does
make the issue less imposing. But from an unbiased
perspective, I know we are missing one player in particular.
One of those unsung
heroes. We miss him and it is more and more noticeable
as each game goes by.
Watching the game against Liverpool this afternoon,
the first half was a non-event, as far as Arsenal
were concerned. We were outplayed in every part of
the pitch and the Reds controlled the midfield. Very
disappointing to watch, particularly knowing the flowing
inter passing game we are capable of. I have been
supporting Arsenal most of my life, and for the past
seven years (via Rupert on Sky)
and that has to be the worse performance I have seen
from the Gunners. In years past, under Wenger, a poor
performance, would not be under the microscope, as
we were able to churn out results or score the odd
late goal. I cannot identify exactly what the course
of our on field problems are, but the courses are
clearly evident for all to see and the opposition
to exploit. If it just confidence wavering, then these
faults can easily be put right. I suppose with a keeper
that does spawn some nervousness, it does little to
lift the confidence of the players at the back.
My Dad would say, that it is only football. We all know it is much more important than just that.
The greatest test of courage on earth is to bear defeat without losing heart.
- Robert G. Ingersoll
Wednesday 24th November 2004
Finally, after months of idle talk and creative web designer's block. Sixty
four days to be exact. In that time, I must have started
at least twenty six individual designs, only to go
back to the drawing board after spending a day working
on each. Looks, like I am not alone.
[andrewtegala
dot net] is alive. Along with it my first work
related blog
hosted by those beautiful people at Blogger.
This is by no means the final masterpiece. Eventually,
the blog will be incorporated into the site, which
will make for a seamless site integration. The future
is bright!
While I have headed in one direction. JT of Diary of a Fast Food Life fame has gone in the other. On the suggestion of fellow bloggers, he has ditched his 'work' blog in favour of a personal blog, Notes About Life. Making sense of the madness. Or rather I bid you to try and make sense of his madness.
There are many blogs, which I visit on a much more
irregular basis. Highlighted as being, always
fresh, always chewy. Coming across as advertisement
for a mixture of chewing gum and a local Subway.
Originally finding the site, when searching for details
on the then new MG
TF sports car. Although the author does cover
a variety of subjects I enjoy, dance music, funny
videos (of the e-mail around the office mould) but
also technical hints and tips. Something
that would right up MightyMouse's
street. Anything that saves time appeals to me, so
I was extremely pleased to see this time
saving article. Highly motivated, I planned to
make my own XP installation CD patched with the Service
Pack 2. Looking at the Information
Week
article it appears quite complicated at first
glance. However, when I got down to creating the disc
on Monday afternoon, I was surprised at the simplicity
and lack of expertise needed to create this time saver.
Within an hour, I had a working CD, with Service Pack
2 installed. Finally, I can throw away my four year
old original XP disc. Let me also explain that this
is a great achievement for me. The scale of my projects
may not up to the scale of our dear friend, MightyMouse.net.
While he over
clocks his PC by the Nth degree, I am quite happy
to create the odd, "special" CD. Oh, how different
lives we lead.
I love radio. No, I am not talking purely about commercial
radio or for music radio in particular. I just love
the idea of radio and wish I had been part of its
more humble beginnings.
Not sure exactly when, but I suddenly became hooked
on talk radio, in the mid 1990s. It was not later
in the decade, when I really began to realise the
potential of this medium. But radio is now evolving.
The future is Digital.
The BBC
are leading the way.
For my birthday, yesterday (yes, you missed it!) my
sisters got me a Pure
Digital Pocket DAB 1000 device.
The difference in quality from old fashioned FM frequency
is amazing. I can only get a selection of stations
in my room, but potentially, on the move I will be
able to get at least 60! Wow! The best feature is
the intelligent ability of the radio to store my favourite
stations. This information is complied on the amount
of time I spend listening to each one. I just can't
wait for digital radio in the car.
There won't be a need for CDs or MP3s. Not if you
can just connect up a hard drive to the device and
hit record.
Since the end of August, I have had a unique black
box sitting, proud of place in my living room. Having
taken over from a Phillips DVD player it has big shoes
to fill. It is only now with the latest release of
the XBox
Media Centre software. With the assistance of
Hussein on MSN
I loaded on the new software on Monday night. For
once in my short life, it actually loaded on first
time. No problems. Although, I still need to edit
the XML configuration file. (I will get around to
it!) The new software is a major leap forward. In
three short months, they have packed in more features
and settings that you could ever wish for. Yet, they
still are working on the software. Just think, how
much progress they will have made in another three
months time. One of the most outstanding features,
is the ability to view movie trailers, directly from
the main menu. Yep, no need to access menu, after
menu. Click the link and you are directly at the fruit.
As mentioned previously, I am a lousy gamer. Hussein
had mentioned to me, soon after the mission do upgrade
my console, that I would have the option to play games
against users across the globe. I had heard of this
major selling feature of the XBox, but was my friend
referring to XBox
Live?
No, to my relief he was not. He was talking about
another option. Kai
would allow me to play system link games (meant for
LAN gaming, across 8 wired XBox consoles) on the net!
I did not realise the huge potential of this. I had
downloaded the small console needed to enable my XBox
to 'see' the other users online and be fooled into
thinking they were on my LAN. But never got around
to playing it. Until now. Egged on my friend, I again
downloaded the program onto my PC and added him as
a contact. The one game I had been given with the
console, was the adrenalin pumping, Project Gotham
Racing II (now an XBox classic)
Maybe it was time, I stopped, playing
with myself! Surprised by the ease in which you
can join and leave games. Plus the community is well
established, with very friendly and helpful people
on the end of the wire. You can chat during the game
in the Arena chat rooms. After a few races, I was
addicted. As hard it has been to keep my controller
away from my hand, I have succumbed to the odd challenger
most afternoons this week. Including the occasional
few races against 'sein! :D Comprehensively beaten
on all accounts. All I need now, are some more games!
:D Feed me! For the time being at least, feed yourself on some sweet sugar coated icebergs.
Sunday 21th November 2004
The fog was thick, on this late Sunday night, as
I headed out onto the M40. The road ahead was a certain
as my own future. I suppose ultimately I was lacking
inspiration. Lacking the enthusiasm for life, which
I had shown and felt so warmly five months ago. Times
had changed. Events throughout my life had knocked
some sense into me, while events off the pitch, were
also playing on my mind. Before I confuse any more
readers and deepen the riddle. Let us gain some normality
to proceedings. Have you ever felt lost? Wondering
where your next big break is coming from? Of course,
I am sure you have. But for now, it appears that the
wait continues. For anyone who has been waiting for
their big break, I know exactly how you feel. This
may not be last chance saloon for me, but I do feel,
I deserve one more chance. I can wait, for now.
And we made a lot of sacrifice
Undid a lot of ties
Fought a lot of fights
To get where we are now
Just don't ask me how
Thursday 18th November 2004
As I have already noted here, on previous occasions,
blogging has now become an important part of my life.
Something that I shall never stop doing. I cannot
predict a situation when I would ever need to. Regardless
of what others may say, this blog will continue to
grown and blossom. For some people, catching the blogging
bug is easy enough. Losing it can be much more difficult,
however I come to the conclusion that there are some
bloggers, merely trying on the concept for size and
finding it is very much not one size fits all phenomenon.
So, yes, I have to report, that yet another blog bites
the dust.
This after only been added to my personal blog roll,
three weeks ago. What a shame! JT was really on to
something with his work based blog on the fast food
chain, Burger
King.
Did you watch the World Premiere of Band
Aid 20? It would have been quite difficult to
miss, BBC
One, BBC
Two, CBBC,
ITV1,
Channel
4, Five
and Sky
One, were all showing the video broadcast simultaneously
at 5:50pm (GMT). Although one of my idols, Madonna
introduced the remake, and the video is overall a
polished poignant production, something is missing.
Whenever you attempt to remake anything, be it movie,
game or song. You run the risk of losing the magic
of the original or trying to too hard to emulate the
original. In this case the artists fall foul of attempting
to drag a charity song from the 1980s into the 21st
century. Not an easy task. Yet, it starts so well,
and when you look at the lineup and lyrics on paper
it looks like solid gold. Even the start, with Chris
Martin, Dido and Robbie Williams opening the track.
That is the only redeeming feature, believe me, it
is down hill from there on in.
I am surprised to discover that there are some people
who can blog first time. By this I mean they can open
up Microsoft
Notepad (or any third party
alternative) or login to Blogger
write their piece. Upload. Done. These are the raw
blogs, directly from the heart. Providing the purest
of emotion. Then there are the rest of us. Those of
us, who have to check, double and triple check. Then
re-read and get a friend or family member to read
(not always appropriate). Then running a full spell
check (not always the best thing to do) only to discover
several links are wrong and a variety of sentences
do not make sense. On a personal note, I tend to avoid
blogging on certain occasions. Writing nothing more
than the date in my editor, only to find myself lost
for words on how to describe the events of the past
few days. It must all boil down to one fact. Some
of us have it. Some of us obviously do not. For those
that have, blogging must be a completely different
experience. They see their blog as an extension of
their life, and not the reason for their semi-celebrity
existence.
Did you watch five
on Sunday night? If you did, you were lucky enough
to see T3:
Rise Of The Machines premiere on terrestrial television.
If anyone out there can explain to me how a film,
only released last summer, can been shown on the small
screen so soon, I would be utmost grateful. What happened to the standard four year wait?
Have you heard it? I was listening to Steve Wright
In
The Afternoon while carrying out the laborious
of reinstalling Windows XP on the family computer.
(Yes, I finally got around to this task, after months
of discussion and nervousness!) I came back into my
room, to check for a driver on the net. Then Steve
pronounced the arrival of the record. I stopped to
listen. My hope slowly turned into anger. I would
not go as far as Pop
Justice that the song will mean more children
will die, because less teenagers will purchase the
track. (That is something that has come to be standard
in the irrelevant world of this music blog). My personal
view is they tried too hard to match the potency of
the original twenty year old track. The fact the project
was so rushed and less polished clearly shows in the
end product. I would even go to on a limb and say
that the second version released in 1989 is better
than this one. When I listen to the original, it has
a mellow feel that is missed from other Christmas
songs. The other seasonal numbers warm the heart and
bring back fond memories of your childhood on that
special day. The only way to put everything back into
perspective, you would put the record breaking single
onto your stereo, pondering how lucky you are to be
where you are. The Dizzie Rascal rap in the middle
of the track, is completely unnecessary and a joke.
When has there ever been rapping on a Christmas single? It appears that I am not the only one whom festers such negative feedback.
Then again, having said all that. What would I know? My favourite Christmas song is "I Love Christmas" by the Fast Food Rockers.
Saturday 13th November 2004
When an period in your life comes to an end, there
is an empty feeling. Being a creature of habit, a
strict routine is very important to me. I long for
structure in my life. Without trying to make myself
sound like unexciting, I am trying to get across my
emotions. It is difficult, because I was never going
to be here for a long time. Maybe I just got lucky,
and then as the months went by it slowly started to
run out. Maybe this is not exactly the right moment
in time to reflect on the recent events. I must look
to the future and moving on. After all it is never
a sad day, when you leave for reasons that will in
time become acceptable. Looking back, I turned down
a reasonable position, by predicting the date of a
future interview (the second, not the first!) and
took up this contract. Wise? Time shall tell. Just
briefly glimpsing back at the past four months, I
looked to the cool blue winter sky so clear through
my bedroom window. I smile. Smile for where I've been
and where I'm going. The future is bright, even if
outside it is cold and bleak.
The world around me changes, people come and go. Yet, I still stay the same. Is this how it is going to be? I realise there is little I can change. I am a nobody, wanting to be somebody. (With little success to date). There is plenty of time and a long road ahead. Let us just gather our thoughts before we take the next few steps. What exactly has been happening over the past ten days? A great source for the latest news in the only acceptable form, a blog.
What have I been up to for the past week? I have
finally patched my personal PC with Service
Pack 2. So only the family PC left now. However
this is only a temporary measure. Both machines are
to be wiped, and a fresh install of XP loaded on.
All standard software to be installed. Then with the
wonder software from Symantec
an image to be created using Norton
Ghost. This will eventually been burnt onto DVD
so I can easily rollback all systems to their original
clutter free state. The only problem now is, having
two digital audio collections, on both computers.
I really need to purchase a new hard drive. But then,
I actually need a whole new machine. Then again, as
much some of the offers by Dell
are mouthwatering. Nothing, nothing can beat giving
birth to your own monster.
Before any of jobs can be started, I need to think
of some imaginative names for my computers and network.
I will of course, let you know when I find something
that is suitable. This is not the only tasks on my
list, my latest project
still needs to be jump started. Plenty to keep me
off the streets for the next few weeks. Only a few
weeks mind!
Wednesday 3rd November 2004
Following on from some of my comments in my previous
post, last month
I was rather bemused to discover the following article
as a headline (is that the right phrase to use?) on
BBC
News website. Obviously that is taking an extreme
example but I do not want to see myself in that dire
predicament (which I personally see as a lose lose
situation). To be frank, would you really keep a semi-biographic
blog, with your own photos. It just does not make
sense. I know the blogging world has no rules or etiquette,
but there should be room for some common sense. Either
you decide to write an open personal blog about your
life. Or under alias write, critically if you feel
about your employee, neighbour or local MP. Looks
like the Queen of the Sky has truly lost
her crown. Yet still, I have an overwhelming desire,
a burning in my heart, and buzz in my mind to get
this blog off the ground and working. Working in the
sense, it becomes something important, if only to
record my career path.
Thanks for your comments, JT and Nazma. As always this blog lives on the comments of the readers and much of the direction is guided by these views. How else can I improve this site?
Sunday 31st October 2004
In the summer of 2003, when I was considering the
re launch of this site, the return was turning out
to be more of a retirement rather than anything else.
My own lazy attitude was the main culprit on this
occasion (and it appears that history repeating itself).
In July, I created a blogspot account, with the ever
so imaginatively titled, tegala.blogspot.com
but I could never get around the fact I would have
to come online every time to update the blog. Even
if I had pre-prepared my entry in notepad, there is
so much tweaking and checking that goes on behind
the scenes before the finished article entry goes
live. As you now are fully aware, I hate the restrictions
of having to conform to the standards put in place
by Blogger.
So I surfed the web, guided by both Google
and Guardian
Online, one of the only newspapers to see the
potential in web blogs from the beginning.
My mission or rather objective was to find a homegrown
blogging service which was much more user-friendly
and less intimidating. I did not have to search far,
I found 20
Six. At the time the membership was very small
and including only a small band of geeky blogs but
now it has grown to a family of weblogs covering thousands
of topics. I cannot explain why I did not make use
of the service but there may be an explanation later.
I only re-discovered this blog account last week,
as the lonely entry of 20
Six Tegala clearly demonstrates. If you had been
speaking to me a week ago, you would felt my joyous
mood at using this blog as my work
blog. Shame that I never used any of the ecstatic
feeling into action and yet again my new domains bears
some rather arrogant words from the Holy
Bible.
If anyone knows how I can kick start this project please get in touch. Knowing all too well the lack of response to my last two requests. I won't hold my breath.
Friday 29th October 2004
At times I find it it difficult to put into words,
the story of my life. Sometimes, I look at myself
and in the mirror I see, one of the least interesting
people in the universe. Giving great evidence for
the existence of the great 'nobody' is not hard. Yet
the person that stares back at me, with those piercing
dark eyes, longs for something. Longs for some recognition,
some fame. No, maybe fame is not the correct word.
He has a deep yearning to belong, but he misconstrues
this desire with wanting to be popular. That goes
a long way to explain the existence of this website
and this blog. Taking this to a higher level, I look
at my life and realise many home truths. My day begins
with me, walking from a quiet suburb of Buckinghamshire
into the hustle of one of the greatest (and in my
eyes, beautiful) cities in the world. Yet, as the
moon is high in the cloudy sky, his only friend, as
he returns home.
Rarely do I talk about myself in the third person, rarely do I even consider writing my blog in this narrative fashion. Yet, today is different. Today was supposed to be the point at which, a chapter in my life to end. Closure is important, no matter what anybody says. Human emotions does not drift from one scenario to another without some baggage but there is a need to shed as much as possible, in order to move on. To make the transition more stable.
Today was my last day at work. But for circumstances beyond my control, I am still here and there is a job that needs to be finished. It has come to a point, where that has become the priority and everything is just a secondary after thought. I know, once again with the finish line within sight, I would be able to take my foot off the pedal and relax. This could not be further from the truth. I think these final ten days are going to be the most challenging of my four months with the firm. I just have to keep reminding myself that the future is bright, if not as bright as I would have hoped. A voice in my head reminds me of some wise words delivered by a stranger, several years ago. "As one door closes, another one opens..." Funny how I keep shutting these doors on myself. I suppose I can be shown as many doors as possible but it is I, whom has to take the bold step through. Enough talk of my progression up the career ladder (or rather lack of progression).
Still not been able to find the time to work on my
latest project.
My plan is to incorporate some sort of work log which
will take the form of technical notes and observations
in my everyday working life. This will not be a form
of anonymous employee blog, such as Call
Centre Confidential: Next Stop Bombay or Diary of a Fast Food Life. I
have no desire to be sacked, but please feel free
to read more on this growing trend
in the blogosphere. After many years of coding my
own HTML for my blog, I was considering using one
from two of my currently redundant weblog accounts.
However, first a brief history lesson. Is this the
right moment. No, so maybe sometime over the weekend.
If I can spare some time.
Is it any wonder now the stars around me
Are not the brightest of them all
From standing proud to falling like a domino down
And out somehow
All that I remember now about being by your side
Is having just the most amazing time
But nothing lasts forever
We're just human after all
Sunday 24th October 2004
The only news this week was an unexpected e-mail
I received from a member of Bolly
Bob collective. With reference to my blog entry
from April where I
discuss my views on Indian cinema, my comments were,
'very much appreciated'. The main reason for the e-mail
was to inform me that I now was part of a growing
group of people, with links on to their site. Plus,
there was more news on what our favourite villain,
Bob
Christo had been up to since his retirement from
Bollywood in the early 1990s. Although if my memory
serves me correctly, he did have a cameo role on the
1997 smash Gupt.
It is great to see, that my personal influence, along
with those of many other blog writers, has convinced
the owner of the site to start up again and give the
site that much needed lick of paint. A very much welcomed
improvement. Keep up the great work guys! :)
There are many catchphrases that are bounded around.
Most of the time, they reflect the popular television
series or advert running at the time. Well there has
been one such catchphrase that has been doing the
rounds at work, over the past few weeks. My friends
know my long term fondness for Ali
G but I am also a big fan of Borat.
Genius. That is the only way I can describe this fictional
character from Kazakhstan.
I really hope that Mr. Cohen can come up with some
original characters to match Borat and Bruno. There
has been talk of killing of Ali, as the vehicle runs
of commercial viability, particularly after the second
series in the US.
To get you through the working week, you need to
switch over to Three
at 9.30pm on Tuesday evening. Some of you may already be tuned onto this
channel, watching Little Britain. I have to admit, I have never been a fan, and just cannot see the appeal. Although I was surprised to discover my Dad is a big fan. Well straight afterwards
is the comedy, My
Life In Film starring Kris Marshall (of My Family
and Murder City). The first episode aired, taking inspiration and paying homage to Top Gun. Each week the series plays around with a movie, putting a spin on the original motion picture, with Art very much playing the lead role. All I can say, is that give this comedy a chance and let us see where it takes us. This is only the beginning.
Crunch time. Come on you Reds! (I think we may be playing in our blue away kit actually!?)
Sunday 17th October 2004
Probably the most comfortable slippers in the world
Saturday 16th October 2004
There was one thing, a prize that was getting me
through the working week. Saturdays are generally
special. Not that I do anything overtly interesting
or sporting. It was my Mum's birthday and I was looking
forward to the day. I remember some years having a
discussion with one of my good school friends. He
was having an anti everything day and detested the
fact that 'you have to enjoy yourself on a Saturday
night'. Angry at this unwritten rule, he was trying
his best to live life without the ties of conformity.
I never realised how important the weekend was until
I started college. I suppose, after school we begin
pursuing our own personal hobbies and interests rather
than wanting to meet the expectations of our peers.
Of all the types of movies I enjoy, I just love feel
good cinema. What had originally been planned as a
family viewing of Bride
& Prejudice at our local FilmWorks
changed. What is that saying about the best laid plans?
Never mind, that is not important right now. My Mother
and I headed over to the cinema, formerly known (but
still referred to as) Wycombe 6. Although I had heard
mixed reviews from various sources and avoided all
the press coverage (as much as possible) I went into
the auditorium with a clear mind. I left two hours
later with a warm glow inside. A beautiful feeling.
The movie included everything that a cinema audience
love.The hero winning the girl but not at the cost
of being entertained. My Mum perhaps enjoyed it more,
because she saw some of herself reflected (or rather
exaggerated) on screen. Having songs sung in English
was a bit strange at first but you soon got used to
the idea. I feel that this was done perhaps to appease
the Western English speaking audience. And the only
way to see this to America (or get the backing of
Miramax?)
Perhaps. As the final credits rolled, you could see
how much fun the cast and crew had making this movie.
Something you rarely see, in the cut and throat world
of Hollywood, when your next Box Office smash could
be last. I really enjoyed Bend
It Like Beckham but this movie was slightly different,
more grown up maybe. Will we ever see a film like
this again? No. This was the final piece in the jigsaw,
which has opened the door for the director,
from her early days on BBC
Radio to the big lights of Hollywood.
Good luck to her.
Wednesday 13th October 2004
It is difficult to explain and describe my weekly
routine at present. I arrive at Marylebone station
around 7.25am, some twelve hours later, I am getting
off the train as it pulls into High Wycombe. One word
to label my working life, crazy!
I need to get around to working on my new website
but for the above reason, cannot find the time. In
the pipeline is a new blog based around technical
computing and work related issues. Don't worry, I
will try and make it lighthearted in places too. This
blog, will still be my main port of call to record
all my grievances and reflect upon general day to
day happenings and of course my personal feelings.
All shared to a great soundtrack.
Sometimes days are so hard to survive, a million ways to bury you alive
The sun goes down like a bad bad dream
You're wound up tight, gotta let off steam
They say they can break you again and again, if life is a radio, turn up to ten
Saturday 9th October 2004
My weekend had until Friday been planned out for me. This had meant I would miss the England game. I was disappointed but knew a job had to be done and these sacrifices have to be made for the greater good. It was some consolation, that I would at least be able to get home in time to catch the Azerbaijan on Wednesday evening. At the drop of a hat, or rather the *ping* of an e-mail on Outlook, it all changed. The weekend work was cancelled and I was free. Not a minute too soon, I had loads of things to get done on Saturday and giving my blog some much needed tender loving care was high on the list. But, now as Saturday evening slowly drifts away, I have time to reflect and put things into perspective. Not something many of my peers will be doing at this time of the week, rather they will be trying their utmost to place everything out of perspective and look at everything as if it were a dream.
My love for England internationals stems for a great
belief in getting behind our sportsmen and women,
regardless of contest, as they fly the flag. This
has topic has been covered at length over the past
few months in my blog. Sometimes, my patriotism, gets
in the way of my love for football, but never overshadows
my enjoyment of the game. This week, is a case in
point. In the past, the built up to big international
matches, would see me drowned in the pre-match build
up for days on end, with coverage in the media (mainly
the television and newspapers). My working pattern
has made me immune to this now. Of course, there is
the Metro
which I pick up now religiously every morning at Marylebone
before heading to catch the Tube.
What I do not like about this free morning daily?
It only contains the bare facts. There is never any
analysis. While some may enjoy this minimalist approach
to journalism, I find it patronizing. But that is
beside the point. In my previous walks of life, I
would be bombarded with coverage of the up coming
football game and the constant hype. While I personally
do not find anything wrong with this, it has been
a change, a welcomed change to not have to deal with
all this. At times, I do consider myself living a
rather solitary existence, if only Monday to Friday.
While some would rebel against becoming a social outcast,
I am enjoying the anonymity it gives me. I am a strange
in the shadows, a nameless face in the crowd. Well
at least until I arrive at work. But even then, I
am very much left alone to my own devices.
A popular topic for discussion (well for the late
1990s, at least!) which I have been meaning to include
in my blog for over the past month will now be finally
be added. There are two reasons for mentioning this
now. Firstly, there are a group of blog's which I
read on a daily basis, as part of my daily dosage
of the internet. Of these, Diamond
Geezer is always my second port of call after
reading the latest news on the Gooners
from Arse
Blog. In an entry towards the end of August, entitled,
"Ringing
the Changes", our faithful London commuter described
his recent mobile phone upgrade. This got me thinking.
I really need to put my own personal mobile history
on my blog. This become very much a passing thought,
until in mid September, I actually noted down those
important dates, times and model numbers. That was
as far as I got. Then, one lunchtime, as I was returning
to the office, I noticed something really strange.
As you already know, my lunchtimes are frequently
spent, with the towering shadow of St. Paul's bearing
upon me, with the Millennium Bridge to my left. The
whole area is being regenerated to give, Sir Christopher
Wren's masterpiece
the surroundings
it has deserved. Not to worry, only 300 years late,
but the scene of a major Pillow
Fight on Wednesday. Back to my story. I was heading
back to the office, and noticed a smartly dressed
man heading towards me. Nothing strange or peculiar
in that, I hear you cry. Of course, I can expect to
see millions of the same throughout this part of the
city. This was an encounter with a difference, for
I noticed the glimpse of the phone he had held in
his hand, deep in conversation, and I smiled, a broad
smile of satisfaction and fond memories. Where will
these fond memories take me? To a different world.
Let me set the scene. It is Tuesday 22nd September
1998. Having recently started college, a few friends
had arranged to go down to Adam's Park (now the Causeway
Stadium) to watch Wycombe
Wanderers play in the League
Cup (then sponsored by Worthington's)
Why had we come? It was not the lure of my local second
division side at all, but the promise to see on my
heroes, if what at the twilight of his
glittering career play. (A special dedication to my
favourite England number 8 will be included at some
point in the future.) Unfortunately, this was not
the talking point of the evening. There was someone
far more important on the lips of my friends. It seems
very superficial now, looking back but at the time,
I was over ecstatic. The day before I had got my first
mobile
phone. The top of the range 6110 was way ahead of
any of the rival models and a leap forward for mobile
phone technology. For once, I was the first. The first
of my peer group to take the leap into the mobile
phone market and it felt great. Of course, this novelty
feeling did subsequently die down. Though for a few
months at college, while the rest of the students
carried around bricks manufactured by some third rate
manufacturer in the Far East, I had the best model.
The Finns have made a bigger contribution to the world,
than you will ever know. From that day forth, I promised
myself something. I swore an oath of allegiance to
Nokia.
Never would I purchase, upgrade, steal a phone from
any other manufacturer. Regardless of what happened
in the future. Have I stuck to my promise? I am a
man of my word. Of course I have. Indeed, it would
be three years before I upgraded my handset. A lifetime
in the telecomms market. However, that is not to say
I did not make other decisions to fine tune my phone
usage. When I started University, I noticed (with
heavy damage to my pocket) that I was sending an extensive
amount of text messages. Something had to be done,
a solution needed to be found. We are in the cold
winter of December 2000, with my life taking on a
new meaning as my first semester at De
Montfort University draws to an end. Of all the
friends I had made at my Halls of Residences, some
friendships are built for the marathon that life throws
at us. Sippy
(blog coming very soon, I am confidently informed!)
had been looking up various deals for SMS on the internet
and came across an amazing offer from Genie.
This name should be familiar to you, as it was backed
by BT
Cellnet before becoming what is now known as O2.
(Note the clever link to Middlesborough).
The deal at the time was out of this world. Unlimited
text messages. Yes, you heard me correctly. Unlimited
text message for the small fee of topping up with
a minimum of £10 a month. Originally I was going
to port my Vodafone
number across to the Genie
package. But I, along with my friends, kept failing
the credit checks. I recall one evening, calling the
call centre, to listen to an amateur phone operator
(most likely in his first job) apply for the mobile,
by accessing the exact same website, as I would. Sippy,
had similar problems, being told that the main reason
for failing the credit check, is for having insufficient
funds in your bank account. I tried again, thinking
a change of bank account would make a difference.
It did not. So I took the plunge. Before I left Uni
for the Christmas break, I ordered, at great expense
my new Pay & Go 7110.
In terms of phone technology, this was a giant step
(rather than leap) forward from my previous phone.
However, I now had a dilemma. Two mobiles, two numbers
and twice the aggravation. My phone arrived the day
I returned home, and I was eager to try out this new
WAP
feature. The thing you have to understand, is I am
dismissive person when it comes to technology, but
one click and I am hooked. This is similar to my relationship
to the Wireless Application Protocol. Before using
it, I felt it was a silly gimmick which I would struggle
to find uses for. Within a month, I was logging onto
the Genie service, on a daily basis. One of the greatest
features, was being able to enter in two postcodes
and be given directions from one to the other. Fantastic.
There was also chat feature, checking my Yahoo!
Mail while on the move. It also had a built in
modem, which was listed at 14.4bps but would only
give an output of 9.6bps. I recall, with a smile and
hint of frustration, linking the mobile to my PC in
halls and downloading my mail via the infra-red port
I had purchased. One of my favourite memories of University,
which just happens to be mobile telephony related,
is the return. When I returned to halls, in January,
I had just about learned how to make a call on my
new Nokia. Then, a few days later, Sippy arrived.
It was like God returned to the Pearly Gates after
an extended holiday. He had downloaded all the software,
ring tones, operator logos. Very much a late Christmas
present, that was well worth waiting for. My love
affair with my new phone lasted only a year. It was
time to move on. But if the last upgrade, or rather
additional phone purchase had been a big jump, the
next would seem a big disappointment.
Another a conscious decision was made toward the
end of 2001. A year which changed the world forever.
It was time to begin living my life. It was time to
upgrade my phone every twelve months. It was time
to take life by the scruff of the neck. My friends
had by now taken the initiative but also lost the
importance of brand loyalty. Purchasing the 'deal'
rather than phone for the long haul. They had gone
from the Sagem
or worse still the operators own branded equipment.
I stuck to my guns and even by some strange act of
fate (or God?) kept to the same family of phone. (This
will become more apparent later.) Next on the Teg
wish list was the 6210.
In reality, this was just a slight remodeling with
all the features of the 7110. So I had to after, 3
years give up my first mobile. It was sad day and
I wish I could say that it went to a happy home. Rather,
I sent it to hell. Funny how some people don't look
after mobile phones, or any of their possessions.
The next upgrade was exactly a year later, when I
took the leap into technicolour, with the 7210.
The wireless technology had been improved and now
used, GPRS
which I was to learn later is used on the Blackberry.
The mobile tones had also gone from mono to polyphonic,
with the inclusion of Java games that knock the socks
(visually at least) off Snake
(a download you won't be able to resist!) and the
hook for all this? A major media campaign focusing
on picture
messaging. Once again, I never thought I would
want to take photographs. With a phone? Please! But,
I did receive a few picture messages on my phone from
friends and although I never purchased the camera
attachment, the ability to view images and transfer
to/from the PC, did come in handy.
In good fashion, that brings us today. Which phone
do I have now? Well, that shall be a point for my
next entry, because yet again, there is another story
to be told and to be frankly honest, a story that
can wait for another day. For the time being, I am
going to re-issue two questions which I posted at
the end of last month. I had only one response and
feel that my readers need more time to come up with
some suggestions. If you can recommend any computing
or internet magazines, please get in touch. If you
can recommend an original naming convention for my
home network, I would greatly appreciate your input.
So far the only suggestion has been the Hobbit
network, featuring Frodo and Sam. For further details
on this and my other request, go to September
2004.
Thursday 7th October 2004
A week is a long time for us all, and for me to not
blog in the last seven days is indeed a sin. Forgive me. So therefore,
I find myself on this tiring Thursday evening making
an entry. An entry that will most likely be edited
by the weekend. Life is busy. Busy is an understatement.
I am finding that as the deadline approaches, more
and more needs to be done. (Feel free to burst into the chorus of "More More More" by the beautiful Rachel Stevens, at any time...) But the finishing line
is in sight and therefore, all I can do is take my
friend Nav's advice and 'ride it out'. For I know,
deep in my heart that next month, my month, the special
time will bring with it a ray of sunshine, amidst
the cold autumn nights. A new beginning, a fresh start
and a new opportunity. November will be the first
day of the rest of my life and that is not something
written down, or taken too likely. Few know the struggle
the last four months have been. This is not the time
to look back. Even if summer has been and gone, and
I'm still here all alone! Trust is all it takes, I
just have to keep reminding myself.
Friday 1st October 2004
When you place the most important decisions of your
working day into others, you are their mercy. When
these decisions can make or very much break your day,
you at odds. I think, we all as human beings hate
being out of the loop, hate more not being in control.
I will be the first to admit that I am a control freak.
Many of my friends have commented in the past, that
I am likely to die from a heart attack, after all
the stress I place upon myself to stay in control.
During my placement, the journey to work, the responsibility
of getting there on time, rested with me. Of course,
road works, accidents and general mayhem on the roads
affected my journey. However, as I was driving, I
was in control. I was in the driving seat (quite literally!)
Now, working in London, I find myself at the command
of Arrival
buses and Chiltern
Railways. I have little to complain about this
week. I caught he bus, which was on time each morning
and apart from one time at the train station, I caught
the 6.39 to London Marylebone. With my journey to
and from work, going so smoothly, there must be nothing
that can get in my way. I wish this was the case,
but frustration and disappointment are the words to
describe my progress. The work load, is becoming more
manageable by the day, but will everything be done
and dusted by the end of the month. I was confident,
of this being so at the beginning of the week, but
right now, I am not too sure. We shall see.
All this talk of decisions being out of hands would
make you think I am trying to shed myself from all
reasonability. This is not the case, for Tuesday evening
turned out to be a mistake. A colleague at work, takes
the Central
Line home, gave me an idea. Would it be possible
to take the red tube line, across the city and then
catch the Chiltern
Railways turbo back to Wycombe. On Tuesday, I
decided to test the water with this journey, knowing
full well that this would take longer than my usual
route. I did not mind, as I had the company of my
colleague for the forty minute trip. As he alighted
at Northolt,
I waited for the next station, to hopefully catch
my train home. I was completely lost, not knowing
what time the next train would be and whether it would
stop at South
Ruislip. To add to the frustration, a vehicle
had a hit a bridge on the line between Marylebone
and Wycombe, with a knock on affect of delaying or
canceling many services. I got to the platform seconds
after 7pm, to watch a train depart into the dark Autumn
night. At first, I was angry at having missed the
service by a few seconds but then realised that I
had no idea if it was heading for home or not. There
were a handful of other commuters also waiting for
trains heading in the vicinity of Wycombe. South Ruislip,
is like a growing number of stations, completely unmanned.
The public address service is connected via modem
to some call centre, so they dial in to give any announcements.
(You can clearly hear the touchtone phone over the
tannoy before the announcer speaks.) The next service
was at 19:36, which meant a good wait. So I headed
out of the station and to the nearest newsagent to
grab some chocolate. I was low on energy and needed
a quick pick me up. On my return to the platform,
a group of passengers were in bitter discussion regarding
the lack of information from the rail company. I am
not sure if this is a feature at all unmanned stations,
but there is a novelty assistance system. You press
a button and once again, a creaky modem kicks in to
dial a call centre and you are connected to an operator.
They can then relay back to you real time travel information
and the ETA of the next train. After waiting for the
advertised train, as shown on the platform screen,
I was disappointed to note it vanish from display
within a few minutes of the expected time of arrival
being reached. I assume it was cancelled. A fellow
commuter was at his limit and used the phone device
to find out what exactly was going on. During all
this time, train after train had been flying past
the station, heading north to Birmingham and beyond.
We were informed the next train would be with us,
within the next ten minutes and would be calling at
all the stations we had asked for. I knew this service
would be packed and prepared to stand for the remainder
of my journey. The only comforting thought was the
fact that this was only a twenty minute journey and
my sister would be at the station to pick me up and
take me home. So much for taking the 'easier route'.
I was trying to be clever and lazy. Rather than changing
on the Underground, as I do at the moment, I was hoping
to find the perfect journey to work. I have discovered
that there will never be the perfect journey to work.
Well not for me anyway, this is something the Gods
have bestowed upon the 'Beautiful Ones'.
There has been a disappointing response to my request
for recommendations. Nobody offered to suggest any
computing literature and only my ex-house mate Nav,
provided a comical look at a networking naming convention.
It may not be extremely original but it does work
and maybe the 'Hobbit' network will be put in place.
For the time being, I have a long list of things to
do, before this planned reinstall of Windows XP. I
must admit, I am looking forward to it.
So what have you got planned for the weekend?
Monday 27th September 2004
How are you? How was your Monday? Hectic? Manic? Mine was extremely busy, but not too stressful. Thankfully, it is over and there are only another four days of the working week left. Nothing can be worse than a Monday, can it? This is a very brief blog entry pondering a few questions for you.
Firstly I am in the process of renaming and reconfiguration
my home wireless network. I want to rename all the
computers and the network has a whole. My inspiration
comes, as always from MightyMouse
and his exciting hardware
page. What is the point of calling the PCs, "Family",
"Laptop" and "Andrew's Workstation". I want something
far more original and interesting. Thinking about
this last night, I was going to call the individual
machines, Harpo, Chico and Groucho and of course,
the network itself, Marx.
(Yes, I know there were five brothers in total, but
this gives me the option to add additional machines
in the future!) So, I am asking you to come up with
some original related trios with a concurrent theme,
to use as a name for my network. Anything will do,
music, movies, pop culture. As long as the connections
make sense and the idea of naming convention is usable
under Windows
XP.
Secondly, I am considering taking out an annual magazine
subscription. Please recommend an IT or Internet
related monthly magazine that I should subscribe to.
I occasionally read, PC
Format but am willing to consider any suggestions.
Take into account I am not a gamer and do work in
the IT sector as a profession. So a magazine that
bridges the gap between both professional and recreational
use (of a computer) would be fantastic.
I look forward to reading all of your comments and taking on board your recommendations. I will e-mail everyone who gets in touch, so please remember to leave a contact address. Until later in the week (Friday, we love you!) take care, have fun, smile and keep on working hard.
Saturday 25th September 2004
I had seen posters all over the tube network describing
this as perhaps the cinematic experience of the decade.
With such a great billing, this must be a box office
smash in the making, featuring Hollywood's biggest
star. (TC anyone?) I am proud to say, that it was
none of the above. It was a film, I had already seen.
Well that is a lie. The film had come up in one of
my first conversations with my housemate Nav, in the
week we moved into our student digs in Leicester.
Exactly 53 weeks ago, to the day almost. I cannot
recall exactly how the discussion surfaced but I remember
being asked if I liked martial arts movies. Of course
I do, was my reply and I was then quickly offered
a Jet Li VCD. I was hoping to watch it all the way
through that night, but after the first hour (and
first disc of two) I was soundly drifting to sleep.
I kept the discs but told Nav, that I would watch
the remainder of the movie, later in the week. I never
got around to it, and the movie became a distant memory,
until last week. Having seen the various posters around
on the tube, I contacted Nav to let him know. The
news was greatly received that the picture was getting
a nationwide theatrical release on Friday 24th September.
Before I had a chance to explain any further, the
decision was made for me. The weekend of release,
Nav would come down to London and we would pop down
to the nearest multiplex
and watch the movie for ourselves.
Saturday morning came around and I was woken by a
text message, just before 10am. I was not really asleep,
but was by no means fully awake. I grabbed my phone
from the window sill and with blurry eyes, read the
message. Nav was in London and if I was free, we could
go and watch the movie together. The thought of made
me smile, for I had not seen my friend for over four
months in which time my life had changed beyond recognition.
The opportunity to pick up the pieces from where we
had left the film, over a year ago was great. When
would I ever before be able to switch from watching
a movie on a 17" monitor to a widescreen with Digital
Dolby Surround Sound? This was an opportunity I had
to make the most of. Even though, later in the morning
I had considered not going. Did I really want to catch
the train into London and then the Tube
to meet up with my ex-house mate. I dusted away these
negative thoughts, what was I going to do instead?
Waste anyway another weekend at home. Spend the time
browsing the net or watching television. What a waste!
I made the right decision in the end. I headed over
to the station and jumped onto the waiting train on
platform 3, at High Wycombe station. The 13:35 to
London Marylebone stopped at South Ruislip,
which was where I would change for the Central
Line to Greenford.
It was here, that Nav would be collecting me, even
if a few minutes behind schedule. That did not matter,
there was plenty of time before our afternoon showing.
Nav was staying with his sister, at her flat just
outside Ealing, having driven down from Leicester,
late on Friday evening. So this pit stop was mainly
to take on board some snacks, check the directions
to the cinema and catch up on the past few months.
It is strange how you come to take some people for
granted. People that you see everyday and whom play
an integral part in your life. Then suddenly they
are out of your life and you move on to something
new, the next challenge. Yet, when you meet them again,
it is as if time has stood still. They haven't really
changed and the reality is that neither have you.
Seeing Nav after just a few months, bought back some
many memories of my final year at University and some
special moments from our student house. He has moved
now, to new student digs in Leicester. So that brings
some closure to the time at Sheffield Street. A time
in my life, that I will remember forever with some
fondness.
The clock was ticking and it was getting late. We
had to make tracks so we headed out towards the cinema.
It was 15:21. Would we make it in time for the showing,
it starts at 15:45? To begin with I was optimistic,
Nav may not have the greatest sense of direction in
the world, but what he lacks in judgment here, he
makes up for in some nifty driving skills. We perhaps
made the worst decision the second we pulled onto
the main road. Instead of taking the A40 directly
to Park Royal. We headed into Ealing, thinking the
early afternoon traffic would be light and we would
make excellent time. We misjudged badly and were stuck
in minor tail backs through the borough. As we came
up to Hanger Lane, the clock was ticking and we were
quickly running out of time. Would we make it in time?
My hopes were fading, with the conversations considering
our options. A refund? A later showing? My trusted
driver would not be dismayed by such defeatist talk.
Instead he focused on getting us to our destination
in the quickest time possible. The quickest route
was closed for business, far too busy and the fact
we had to turn back on ourselves in heavy traffic
(if we had decided to go that way) meant we would
have had twice the wait. So we continued forward,
in the nippy Yaris.
Heading through Acton, we then made a slight detour
around back on yourself to get up to the leisure complex.
It was coming up to 4pm and my thoughts of seeing
this particular showing of the movie had all but faded.
We parked the car, as quickly as possible and raced
to the foyer of the cinema. Nav tried his card in
the machine, but it just would not print out our tickets.
We tried another machine but it was not working either.
There was no choice, we had to wait in queue and get
the tickets the good old fashioned way, with some
human interaction. When the pressure is on, I lose
my patience rapidly, so I paced around the ticket
office, while Nav waited in line. I turned away to
watch the television screen showing trailers for the
next Pixar
animated feature, The
Incredible's. Mesmerized by the action, Nav appeared
with the tickets and with great urgency in his voice
said it was best for us to catch this showing. We
rushed to screen five and briskly walked in. I half
expected the film to be in full flow and for the main
story to be playing itself out. I was as surprised
as Nav to discover the screen blank, and the auditorium
half empty. We rushed up the middle gangway, to find
some seats towards the centre of the seating stage.
Just as we stand down and switched off our mobiles,
the opening credits appeared. Never before in the
history of my cinema going, had I cut it so fine for
a showing. I sat back, got comfortable, and began
watching the feature presentation.
Having just seen, 'perhaps the most beautiful film ever made' and if the trivia alone is to be believed, then perhaps that is a fitting tribute. The storyline is at times confusing and you have to be quick to keep up with the pace and changing plot, but overall well worth seeing and preferably on the big screen, it really does do the whole experience a better service.
I wish I could have spent more time with Nav in London but time was not a friend. The movie had lasted two hours and by the time we got back to the flat, it was pushing 7pm. After having some delicious chocolate cake, I asked Nav to drop me off at the station. From Greenford I took the tube up a few stops west to South Ruislip. I had no idea when the next Chiltern Railways service to High Wycombe would be passing and thought I was in for a bit of a weight. Saturday night, meant the both platforms were busy with people out for the night. Within fifty seconds, a train pulled up that was heading directly to High Wycombe. What luck! I boarded an empty carriage, starred out of the window into the dark nothingness and reflected on what I had seen. Could one man really unite a country? There is a blurred line between myth, legend and reality. Nav agreed with me. Hero sits loosely among all three.
Thursday 23rd September 2004
September is briskly rolling past and at times I feel, constantly a slave to time. The days go by and the nights begin to draw in. Autumn will soon be replaced by winter. I should not really think so far into the future. There is plenty of work to be done before then, and as far as I am concerned the future is very uncertain and there is no joy in making big plans. Only to seem them die, in a towering inferno a few months down the line.
It was my father and his generation that experience at first hand, the epic. Not just the epic movie but the grand scale to which all forms of entertainment tried to live up to. If you are old enough to remember, you will briefly recall this movement coming to an end in the early 1980s. you are the one of the lucky ones, for there are a whole generation of children growing up on a diet of bland American comedy and far fetched Japanese anime. Let me take you on a journey. To a time when our minds sparked up at the mouth watering prospect of adventure and fun.
It was the early 1980s, a golden era which saw children's
television finally being taken seriously by the broadcasters
and producers a-like. Thursday afternoon was a special
time in our house. Only one more day left at school
and the weekend heavenly near. At 4pm, my sisters
and I would settle down in front of the television.
It was out time, nothing was more important in the
world, for the next half hour at least. My memory
is weak, but I vaguely recall the three main characters,
all young children, appealing to us all. We were easily
able to relate to them and this longing to find what
they had been searching for.
"I believe there's a hero in all of us. Gives us strength, makes us noble. Even though sometimes we have to give up the thing we want the most." Just as Aunt May said in Spiderman 2, our story has one to call it's own, but also the comic element of a Laurel & Hardy double act.
I tried to research the series a few times on the
net over the past five years, but it was last year
when it finally clicked. Towards the end of the summer,
I was driving my sisters mad, asking them for the
name of a cartoon, we used to watch as children. Then,
one night, I awoke, to suddenly have the name of on
the tip of my tongue. A brief search on the Internet,
gave me all the information I needed to know, but
yet again, something else came along and my desire
to find about more the series and relive my childhood
was short lived and put back on the shelf. When I
started my final year at University in September 2003,
my housemates Paul came to the rescue. He had a treasure
trove of goodies on a 80gb hard drive. The only problem
was, he would be very sparse with the sharing this
drive on the network. It was then I discovered he
had many but not all of the series downloaded on this
drive. The moment the drive came online, I grabbed
my chance and copied a few of the early episodes onto
my PC. I later learned that he had been obtaining
these from a source in the Middle East and due to
differences in politics he had to cut short a useful
friendship. This did not both me too much. Late one
evening, I watched the first episode and was taken
back to my younger days, in a way I never thought
imaginable. But the fact that not all the episodes
were there, left the dream unfulfilled and the whole
quest unsolved. So therefore, I had to take a decision.
Would I hunt high and low across the information
superhighway for these files, with little chance of
finding every single missing episode in watchable
quality. Or would I bite the bullet and purchase a
copy for a nominal fee from a strange across the wire?
Knowing the the collection would be complete, with
good quality and sound and not having to waste hours
searching the net, swung my decision. I got in touch
with one of the well published copies and it arrived
on 18th December 2003. My plan was to watch an episode
a week, from September to June. To date, I have not
seen any at all. I just have not been able to find
the time to sit down, and enjoy the series for what
it was. Something different, something special. As
I have great respect for what is a great story, I
could never do a weekend
marathon, like some completely
undisciplined people. If I lost you three paragraphs
a go, all you need to know is available there,
here
and yonder
I would like to apologise for the week long delay
between updates. Work is busy as ever, and I just
do not have the time to dedicate to my blog as I wish.
I have also started a new web project, that will hopefully
prove to be very successfully. For now, all I can
say is that sometimes a name
is worth more that material riches. I can also give
some explanation for the poor
viewing figures for my favourite soap.
I have not been watching the usual early evening slot,
but opting for the late night edition shown on Three.
Don't worry, I don't think the Beeb
will ever consider dropping the show. For all those
that have been giving the show criticism, please take
it as it is. It is pure escapism. It is to there for
you to place your life into relief and realise that
things are not that bad. Sure, at times it can be
rather dull and uninteresting but overall I personally
find it highly entertaining. A particularly favourite
episode was, Friday 10th September. Particularly newly
arrived, Keith
Miller calling Minty
Monty throughout the episode! :) (Will somebody tell
Teg that it isn't real life!)
Do you remember your first time with CeeFax? Read a great article in the Guardian about the Fax of Life. As always, Diamond Geezer has come on with his own personal tribute. I will ponder my own and then and some thoughts over the weekend. Until then, hope you all have a great Friday! :)
Thursday 16th September 2004
It has been a while. Any prolonged break from my
site, usually equates to many things going on in my
life. Although this is not strictly the case, I feel
obliged to explain my absence and fill in some of
the gaps. My hours at work have been extended, so
I am now working 8am until 6pm, which in reality means
I leave the house at 6am and get back around 8pm.
This new regime has only been in force since last
week, but I am already feeling the strain. Not only
is the week much longer, the day is just more physically
demanding. By the time I get home and eat, it is very
much time for bed. Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? I am sure there is, for I have been here before and perseverance is the key.
This will be a rare weekday update
for at least the for seeable future. Neglecting my
blog is one of the few things I hate doing. Mainly
because I want to record as much of my life (or events
of my life) and as frequently as possible. This hit
home sharply when I was indolently looking back at
entries from last year. It was yesterday, last year
when I moved into Sheffield Street, Leicester for
my final year at University. Even now it feels like
that was in a previous life. What takes me back in
an instant, is the occasional brief e-mail from my
old housemates coming to the end of their courses.
The reflect aspect of the blog will be taken to another
level, as time passes. It will be amazing, to be able
to look back on four, eight even twelve years of my
life on paper. (Have I been self indulgent enough
now?)
What have you been up to? I went to see The Terminal on Sunday evening. I had little expectation but this movie showed great promise and brought me some warmth, with the flickering light entertainment. I would highly recommend you go and watch it, particularly when I tell you that, I was going to watch, Dodgeball. It is funny how when decisions are made for you, they do actually make sense in the end. Even if you feel somewhat bewildered to begin with.
Hoping to begin work on my next major web project in the next few weeks but with work taking up most of my time, I am not sure when I will get started. I also lack the creative inspiration that is always important when embarking on something new. What is the best way of selling yourself, without seeming too confident, even arrogant yet still aiming to demonstrate the power of your strengths and underline the insignificant of the few weaknesses that we all possess?
Sunday 5th September 2004
How was your weekend? Mine has been distinctly average, just like England's performance against Austria. I read on Arse Blog how distinctly average our national side are, and would easily be beaten by Arsenal. While I do not disagree with the view, my personal feeling is that as standard as they are, they always produce moments of magic (Euro 96, World Cup 1998, 2002 and even Euro 2004) which make them worth watching. Following England is special, even if full of such heartbreak. Perhaps I am always watching these matches with rose tinted glasses. Who knows? Bring on Poland! :)
I did not mention it in my blog, but I watched Shanghai
Noon on Christmas Eve last year. I quite enjoyed
the movie, it did not take itself too serious and
was just great fun. Last night on Sky
Movies saw the premiere of the sequel Shanghai
Knights. Once again the combination of Chan and
Wilson pays off in an highly entertaining movie. Sure,
historically it does not make sense and has many holes,
but this is not a documentary and has the licence
to be liberal with the historical fact. One scene
was highly memorable and is described as the 'pillow
fight scene' with the two leads finally bonded together
as friends. The song that plays during this scene
was significant. Mainly for the fact that I had been
attempting to hunt down the 1980s cover for many years.
The lyrics are sung at pace and it is difficult to
note even the chorus. Originally a hit for George
Flame & The Blue Flame in December 1964. The
version more familiar to me, was constantly heard
on commercial radio when I was a toddler. It has been
played on VH1
several times but I have never caught the artist or
name of the song. Until now. Simply called, 'Yeh Yeh'.
Covered by the band (not solo artist) Matt
Bianco in October 1985 and if I recall correctly
has a very funny cheesy pop video. It is one of those
songs, that appears at first hearing impossible. Impossible
for you to learn the lyrics. There are a few songs
out there that fit into this category. After the thirteen
run through, you soon pick
them up.
Not much else to report at the moment. I do not think
I will be update the blog until next weekend. Working
late, so I am not home until 7pm most evening and
only go on the PC to check my mail. I am thinking
of starting a photo blog. Something that will record
a collection of daily images that I take, or perhaps
more likely images of the week. Any ideas on which
service I should use? Preferably I would like to use
something that is free, as the images will be slow
and of medium quality. Let me know your thoughts.
Friday 3rd September 2004
My weekend officially began as I boarded the Bakerloo
tube train to Marylebone.
As I boarded at Embankment,
I heard the unusually stern voice of the driver over
the tannoy. He gave a safety speech about staying
behind the yellow line and continued, "a lot of unnecessary
paperwork and it's Friday evening, I do want to get
home at a decent time tonight...". Greeted by a collective
chuckle by all those in my carriage. It was Friday,
we had got here. Even though only a four day week,
it felt like I had done the work of five. Looking
back, I was still regarding Monday as a working day,
even though it had been far from it. Work has been
very busy and with summer very much over the pressure
is on. But I think I am more than capable of meeting
this challenge. I just have to keep focus and put
in more effort than before. From now on, every step
counts.
Over the course of the week, there were many subjects which I wanted to blog about. But as usually they are now far from my memory, with the weekend having arrived, there is nothing better to do than relax, chill out and recover from all that commuting. I will try and blog once again over the course of the weekend. Right now, I just want to sit down and take the weight of the world off my shoulders.
Wednesday 1st September 2004
Wednesday already? Where has the time gone? Does it feel like September? No, it does not at all. The summer is dying away and the train is getting for embarkation. Destination, the end of the year. Are you ready? Neither am I. I am sure together we will make it to the finish line, only to find this vicious circle starting again.
"Your warranty has just been voided by the way..."
Not the words, you want to hear on a lazy Sunday morning.
Very few things can get me up early on a Sunday. The
thought and possibilities of converting my lonely
games console, which was in fact, just a large paperweight,
come desk stop. I had hardly played games on the machines
(as my previous posts clearly describe). In several
discussions on MSN
Messenger, I had pestered Hussein, on how long
the process would take in total. Two hours, was the
likely estimate I had always got. He had also always
given me the option to drop the box off, and pick
it up again the following weekend, so I was not waiting
around. There would be no fun, it doing that now,
would there? So the let me take you on this adventure
and fill you in on the background. Saturday evening,
I called our local superhero, purely to double check
the times and also if all required parts, tools were
available. I could provide the special screwdriver,
but sliver conductive paint was missing. This was
the first of many setbacks. This seemed to the biggest
obstacle in upgrading my console. With hope still
strong in my heart, I headed off towards North West
London around 8am, on Sunday morning. It was an unhealthy
time to be awake, but it was worth the effort. Of
course it was. Even if I came back home with a dead
junk of metal, silicon and plastic.
I would have met one of my Internet idols. Someone
whom I have looked up the past eighteen months, learning
all about this live through his fantastic log.
Felt strange when I finally got to his house and saw
him. How would you describe meeting your idol? You
think them greater than us mortals, yet when they
appear before you, there is still that distance. That
sense of being star struck! Although, this was the
first time I was meeting Hussein, there was no time
for showing too much respect. There was a job to be
done. We didn't have much time. Many other time. I
was greeted by a relaxed, confident Hussein, aiming
to get the job done. But disappointment was also on
the doorstep. No silver conductive paint. The solution?
A trip, to Maplin
in Watford,
adding at least another hour onto our scheduled upgrade
time. My XBox was quickly unboxed and placed on the
Jodiyawalla dinner table. It was turned over, as Hussein
searched for the special screwdriver in my modest
toolbox. As he unscrewed one of several metals screws
to crack
open that XBox.
Be it by a third party, my warranty which still had
a full four months left to run, had now become, completely
void. A message in my head was telling me, "I
hope this works...". Did I have anything to fear?
I was not sure. Normally, when you meet someone for
the first time, you enjoy a meal, a drink or even
a movie. You do not normally pressure them to mod
your video console. I thought he had be optimistic
with the time frame, but then again, what did I know?
The whole process may have only taken an hour but
Hussein wanted to add additional time in case we were
facing problems. The first problem was on how to flash
the bios. I will keep the more technical information
on a separate project page. For now, I will keep it
simple and explain what went wrong (well almost).
Instead of hot
swapping hard drives (not for the faint
hearted) we were using the Mega
X Key. This was to theoretically make the entire
upgrade process much easier. In practice you transfer
the saved game hack
from PC to the key via USB. Then transfer from the
key to the original XBox hard drive and then flash
the bios. What could be simpler? Well it took a solid
hour to transfer the game over to the key. The reason
for this was, the 12" Powerbook G4, Rev C being used
as the project machine was running Mac
OS X. I am not really familiar with these machines,
but the file extension for saved games was not being
shown. This was because VirtualPC was running on the Mac. Basically simulating a Windows 2000 partition. But as this was a fresh version, file extensions were hidden and as WinZip was not installed we could not have opened the saved game files. We did not know they were saved and hence compressed
in zip
file. This was only discovered after switching to
the humble PC and Windows
XP. With the game transferring and appearing as
required on the key via the load game option in James
Bond 007: Agent Under Fire (The world famous signature
tune, does get rather annoying after hearing it thirteen
times, almost on continuous repeat!).
With all the preparatory work complete, we headed
across to Watford. Luckily the journey did not take
as long as I expected and being a Sunday morning,
traffic was light. We parked in one of the car parks
just off the High Street. As we left the car and headed
towards the main pedestrianised area. To our right,
further up the street we could hear the small collective
chanting of sanskrit from some converted Hare
Krishna followers. My sense
of direction is not great but luckily Hussein
just has the ability to find a place quicker than
me. (Seeing a passerby carrying a box in a large Maplin
bag was a major giveaway!) So we headed in the direction
in which he had came, to discover the shop was just
a few hundred yards away.We got to the shop, to find
it moderately busy. I searched around aimless to begin
with but eventually we found the item we had been
looking for. Yet, this was not enough, we needed a
fine art brush to paint over the specific boards on
the board. We went over to sales assistant Wayne,
a 20 year old, who appeared completely oblivious to
the our requirements. We explained that we needed
to paint over to points on a PCB. He looked bemused
and without any emotions advised us to head for an
art shop instead. We headed for the Harlequin
Shopping Centre and WHSmith.
It is surprising how the quality of customer of service
suddenly changed. We went from economy to business
class within the space of a few minutes walk. The
female sales assistant at the stationary store, was
stacking some shelves but was more than happy to leave
her post in order to provide us with the articles
we required. Not only that, she went the extra mile,
showing us a range of brushes and eventually we found
one which was ideal for the job. Happy, we headed
back to the car. As I started the engine, I asked
Hussein, "How long do you estimate we got left?".
Rambling on in his way, which was just his head whining
through the various processes that remained, he said
an hour and a half at a push plus the time it would
take to get home. I headed back to Hussein's house
with a contented smile, the project was back on track
and my faith in my friend had grown. He would get
the job done.
The clock ticked over to midday as we returned to the house, and Hussein got back to work. Wanting to record everything on my blog and also to provide photographs for both my own project and Hussein's XBox page. Some people are just built for certain tasks and Hussein takes to this type of advanced DIY. It was as if he had been programmed before birth to use technology. Watching him work was a breath of fresh air. I have met many techie people in my life, and I am sure I will continue to do so. All, up to now have shown signs of great frustration when the technology is not going their way. Instead of throwing things around and bashing at the keyboard, Hussein just would logically think of the best strategy in order to get the job done. He did give me several heart attacks, I must admit. When attempting to flash the bios on the XBox, an error code would appear advising us to Contact Customer Support. I thought my worst fears had come true and my XBox was dead. Luckily there was someone there who had a good head on his shoulders. He was already carrying out the diagnostics and working through in his head, what we should do next to try and resolve the issue. The fact that the console could be successfully restarted meant all was not lost.
It took another few hours but we finally realised
what we had been doing wrong. I saw 'we' but it was
Hussein who found out the problem. We had been loading
the saved game directly from the Mega X Key. However
has this was making major changes to the bios, it
would not copy over currently and the actual upgrade
would not finish copying. Then as the XBox was reloaded
the error message would appear. We needed to transfer
the game over to the standard hard drive. Hussein
discovered that we need to select the actual saved
game, rather than the title itself, to get the option
to transfer from the USB device to the hard drive.
It worked. Would you believe? A simple 2 second operation
had taken over 2 hours to do. I felt rather stupid,
but then I think Hussein felt more embarrassment.
He was firstly much more of a gamer than myself and
had more experience with this console than me. After
all, mine had been boxed away for most of this year.
Not to worry, we were making progress, if somewhat
heavily behind schedule. It was 3pm, and I had hoped
to have been home by at least 1pm. To make matters
worse, we had treble checked the alterations to the
motherboard, originally convinced that the points
had not made the necessary contact. The moment we
had all been waiting for happened and as a broad smile
appeared on my face, I began to lose my patience.
Starting to pester my friend on how long the final
few processes would take. I should really not have
let him to such distraction and instead just let him
get on with the job at hand. I was hoping to leave
within the hour but I was again being far too optimistic.
Configuration was the final task but this was broken
down into several other small tasks. Firstly backing
up the data from the old drive to a PC. Then drop
in the Western
Digital Caviar SE drive. Then coping back the
files from the old hard drive. The backing up process
literally took a few seconds so I expected the same
when placing the files and folders onto the new drive.
But this was not the case. The whole process took
over an hour with a feeble transfer rate of 40kb/s.
Hussein explained that this was due to the Evox
bios and to safe guard again file corruption during
transfer the rate was capped. I really could not understand
it but waited, if somewhat impatiently for the files
to transfer. Meanwhile, Hussein setup the configuration
for XBox
Media Centre. More details to follow on my Project page. Stay tuned. Then to kill some time, I watched
Hussein play Doom
3. Now I happily admit that I am not the bravest
person in the world, but just this computer game really
scared me witless.
My mind drifted as my remember the brilliance of the
first Doom.
Let me just put it this way, this is not a game you
would play in the dark, with your surround sound system
up high. The thought alone sends a shiver up my spine.
With everything loaded up and working as required. The day was gone. There was not even time to transfer over some of the music videos which were on Hussein's server. Never mind, I am sure I can come back in the future. I would like to extend my gratitude to Hussein for taking time over the Bank Holiday Weekend to mod my XBox. I would also like to extend my thanks to his family for putting up with for several hours longer than expected. At least they were able to squeeze in watching Khan clinching sliver at the Olympics. For months I had dreamed of the possibilities of having a media player in the lounge. Something beyond a DVD player. Finally, my dream has come true. There is still plenty to explore. I have only touched on some of the features available. I mainly use the device at the moment, to watch my personal collection of music videos and MP3s. There is web radio, DivX movie encoding and the ability to play emulators of good old SNES games ;) Good Bless you XBox users! :) Now where is that XBox remote control?
Monday 30th August 2004
Oh yes, my XBox was successfully upgraded yesterday.
It took longer than the two hours we had scheduled
for the urgent maintenance Expect full details on
my forth coming project page. Hopefully, I can find
time later this week, to add this to my site and also
go over any other parts of the site that need attention.
I also have to write up about my weekend, Arsenal's
recent record breaking form, music and other things
on my mind. For the time being, I'm going to go and
continue to work out all the bells and whistles on
XBox
Media Centre (commonly referred to as XBMC). Still
need to get some emulators and games loaded on yet!
:)
Friday 24th August 2004
For all those days, when I have nothing to really
write about and end up waffling about almost nothing.
This is the entry, which brings together the culmination
of a hard working week, the reward of a bank holiday
weekend, and the realisation, that I'm slowly learning,
"life is more than just okay!". Life always appears
to stabilize for me around this time of year. As I
have mentioned previously, Super September is always
special. Why is difficult to explain, I suppose as
we make the transition from the summer to the autumn,
with the mild weather, darker nights (& mornings)
and the realisation winter is not too far away. There
is also the reassuring smile on my face, as I watch
the children going back to school. Although in their
shoes, many years ago, I feel a warmth in my heart,
knowing those days are long gone.
Have you been living your dream, recently? Perhaps
this summer? For me, I have to confess, feel I am
touching more and more of my dream, with every passing
working week. This may seem like a really strange
thing to say. Yet, all the things I have ever wanted
to do, I have achieved within the past few months.
Since as long as I can remember, I have wanted to
work in the City. Although Greater London does appeal
to me, there is still some distance for the true buzz
of the city life. Everything appears to have fallen
in place. This is not the first time, and I am sure
it won't be the last. Yet, I still find myself pinching
myself on how lucky I have been. Maybe luck has nothing
to do with it. Choice and the decisions of these choices
have had a bearing on all the outcomes to date, and
will continue in the future. I have made decisions
and other have made subsequent decisions, yet we have
found ourselves in the same boat. Everything happens
for a reason. I have learnt that over the past few
years. So perhaps I should enjoy the quiet moments
of happiness, and spend less time reflecting on more
of the sadness. The times pass and the future brings
a brighter tomorrow.
The dream I have been living, has been tinted throughout
with an American influence. This may not be the best
time to mention my admiration and love for America
and it's people. Why should I shy away from my true
feelings? It may be a dream. But then this dream appears
to be becoming more and more a reality, with every
step I take. Not a major step, but small steps to
at least attempt to live the consumer ideals which
our cousins across the pond have been experiencing
for years. Do you like doughnuts?
Back in the mid 1990s, every Saturday, my sisters
and I would delve into a nice chocolate doughnut with
cream filling. Those were the days, waiting patiently
in line at the market stall in town waiting for the
cheerful trader to bag our doughnuts. Then, itching
to get back home and enjoy them. Since those memorable
days, I have never really eaten them. Then came, the
KK revolution. I only discovered the company Krispy
Kreme while watching a Money Programme special,
last year on BBC
Two. Little did I know then, but a few months
down the line, my craving for doughnuts would return.
The flagship store in the UK was to be in a little
know, foreign owned corner
shop in Knightsbridge, London. Highly impractical,
for an office worker, needed to start the day off
in the most unhealthy way possible. Although perhaps
the trip down to Knightsbridge
on the Piccadilly
Line. There had to be another option. I was getting
used to the fact that everywhere I look now, there
is always a failsafe.
Looking across the web, with the help of Google.
I found some promise on the other side of the river,
as you head East. Having already taken a trip there,
a few weeks earlier, I should have found the store,
then rather than waiting now. But this was not to
bother me. So I headed to the metropolis, that is
Canary
Wharf and the Docklands. Again, the hints of the
American dream, came through, as I feel the towering shadows of the great skyscrapers bearing upon as I leave the tube station to walk around the complex. There was no real, need to do this, but I after being on the Tubefor a while, I wanted some fresh air. I then turned back on myself to head back into the station. The shopping centres, of which there are two, are built underneath the business complex and ajacendent to the tube station. I towards the centre of the shopping complex, passing the entrance to CitiGroup on my left. Up head, was the entrance to HSBC. Then, I saw the prize. The reason I had trekked across the other side of London. I was frankly somewhat disappointed. Mainly because I had expected a store, rather than just a side kart. I was not going to let this get in the way, of this new experience. Before I had time to think, I was approached by an employee, who was very courtesy, wanting to help me. A friend had mentioned that the best option, on your first time is to go for the single glazed doughnut, which is their best seller. So, I ordered 24. No, before you start making wild accussation on my greediness, I bought them for my colleagues at work. (Why else would I be here, just before 8am on a Friday morning?). I ordered a tea, with my order, using the spare few minutes I had to refuel and take in my new enviroment. Everybody was heading to work around me, and many were in their own quiet little worlds. Ask I made for my order and the two large boxes were being bagged, I looked up and smiled at the attendant. She must have read my mind. I had been waiting for her to say something. Having already had my expectations lowered by the size of the actual store, I did not expect for it to be said. Yet, it was said. Said with such feeling and consideration, it made my day. Looking back, it was more important than I imagined at the time. "Have A Nice
Day Sir!" And it definitely was, after tasting those delicious doughnuts.
Thursday 26th August 2004
Mod chip? Where we're going, we don't need no, mod chip!
I have always wanted to have a modified console.
This steps to the original Playstation
console. I will have to be liberal with the truth
here, as I do not wish to find myself with legal writs
placed at my door. An old friend, had setup a site
online, carrying out the job of modifying
the Sony.
(One a side note, does anyone remember the big jump
from 16 to 32 bit gaming?). Although his business
was only modestly profitable, the legal eagles over
in Japan and the States found out about much of the
illegal sale of goods and services for their product.
A product that had come from nowhere, to really knock
out Nintendo
and Sega.
I knew little about it at the time, but soon after
my friend contacted me to tell me that lawyers representing
Sony UK had been in touch. He had 30 days to remove
the site, and any infringement of Sony copyright (logo
and use of their copyrighted trademarks) or face legal
action. Later I would discover, this was the kinder,
softer approach. Rather than raiding the premises
of the domain registrant. This episode, put me off
the gray area of the gaming industry. It happened,
if you got away with you (most did!) but if you didn't,
it was curtains (almost quite literally). Ultimately,
I was not that interested. A games console, was at
the time just that. I had a PC, which although being
extremely flexible and upgradable, it fore filled
all my needs. The multimedia revolution and the ability
to network almost anything has changed that. So, this
weekend, after some four years out in the cold, I
will be heading into the world of the mod chip. Hold
on, that is not quite true. Many people will tell
you that you need a mod chip. This is not the case.
You do not. It is a major misconception,
even for someone as technically well read as Hussein.
Before you embark on any project, you have a vision,
a dream, if you will. In esscene, this is what you
aim to achieve after your hardwork, dedication and
time have been put in. In this case, the dream was
itself, a real product, a definity reality.
The KISS
range of DVD players are something else. They contain
ethernet ports with support for streaming DivX file
format, the first mainstream consumer player to do
so. That was product, I had to better It was not until
in mid July, I was discussing online with my techie
friend, Hussein about the possibilities with modifying
the XBox. It was then I discovered exactly what could
be achieved and how far the XBox web community had
gone from taking an extraordinary console and making
it into a much more versatile and useful tool. :)
The thought of having to open my XBox
and solder onto the motherboard is not a decision
you take likely. Knowing that there are serious implications
for even the smallest of problems could result in
a plastic box being taken home.
It was to my sheer joy that, a few days later I heard again from my dearest
friend, Hussein. His tone had changed, his entire
attitude had changed. Gone was the cautious careful
words, to be replaced with positive personal projections.
It could now be done, without too much hard work,
and even allow for the expansion from the current
drive in the machine to 120 gigabytes. As I have explained
already, I am not a gamer. I am more of a entertainment
person. The opportunity was now given to me on a plate.
I could get the XBox to replace my current dated,
Phillips DVD player in the lounge. This would not
only make the console the sole new wave media player,
but it could also hold mp3s, music videos, divx, and
allow for other possibilities, such as internet (web)
radio. I had planned this project for Sunday 22nd
August. It was not to be. Problems with delivery meant,
although I received my new hard drive, my Mega X Key
and DVD remote never arrived in time. I had to reschedule
with Hussein. Next Sunday, the date was set.
Tuesday 24th August 2004
It is great to hear from an old friend. Particularly,
when it has been so long since you last heard from
them. Mid morning, I was busy answering various support
calls, and the end of the working day seemed miles
away. I have MSN
Messenger running in the system
tray. One new message, the pop-up alerted me and
I was surprised to discover it was from my old flat
mate, Paul. The subject of the message also threw
me off slightly. I was puzzled. I clicked to view
the message and all my questions were answered. Of
all the songs I used to play, back in our students
digs, MJ
material was high up on the list. Particularly, this
sugary ballad, sung with such sweet affection, it
touches your very soul. Paul had discovered a recent
cover of one of my favourite songs. Once again we
come to topic of cover songs. Certain bands just do
not deserve to release any music, let alone be given
the unjust right to recreate or rework a classic song
by an established artist. Then, there are some bands
that have earnt the respect of the industry, so can
live up to the mountain that stands before them. I
arranged for the song in question to be transferred
to me via IM, but Paul would not be available at 8pm
this evening. So instead he placed them all on his
server and gave me access to a shared directory. Eagerly
I downloaded the track as soon as I got in from work.
My reaction? Very few artists can show Michael Jackson,
the respect he deserves and still hold true the most
important integral parts of the song. It continues
the airy feel of the original yet captures the raw
feeling, with a more acoustic arrangement. The vocals
are strong, matching and at times surpassing, The
King Of Pop. Almost acapella, with the guitar
strumming in the background, in place of the electronic
synthesized beats from the Thriller
original. The super
group are back, and not a minute too soon. As
Aderemi
put it in his notebook
(blog is far too common, these days!) they are purely
soulful and old school. Just like, when an icon
of the 1980s, was at his BEST! ;)
Monday 23rd August 2004
There is always a rush, as you exit the train at
Embankment.
You mentally try and prepare yourself, to get onto
the Bakerloo
Line train ending North. The main reason for this
mad dash, is the fact that the journey to the other
platform is littered with obstacles. I wait patiently,
as we pull up to the platform, glaring faces from
the other side of the glass, eager for their journey
to begin, showing little, if any courtesy, standing
directly in front, blocking the path as you attempt
to exit. Usually, I am at the front of the queue of
people leaving the carriage. Not today, with three
people ahead, so I had to act quick. My steps lighten
as I sneak between the mass of people, heading in
the same direction. Then there are the stairs, heading
in an Eastly direction, steep but somewhat awkward
to travel down with so many others. Not a problem
for the 'professional commuter' (or should that be
cattle
user) as I now regard myself. I head towards the left
stairwell, and hit turbo, leaping down the stairs
at record speed. Round towards my right, are three
more steps. Then we take an abrupt right, with many
platform and lines converging. You heard a train pass,
uncomfortably loud above your head. Three more steps
to your right, but you are heading left for the escalator.
I swiftly slide to the left hand side and accelerate
down the revolving steps at high speed. Then, I turn
right, sharp left, hit turbo again. In doing so, I
heard something hit the ground. It was my pen. At
first, I was going to stop and retrace my steps and
pick up the pen. But I did not have the luxury of
time, my train was pulling up the platform, and would
be gone within seconds. As I boarded the tube train,
I realised I which pen I had dropped and tried my
best to kid myself that I did not care. Deep down
I did. For somehow, would know the company I worked
for, if they picked up the pen. It was indeed, a business
pen. Little did I know how events in the following
few moments would unravel. An middle aged Asian gentleman,
smartly dressed and well spoken, had picked up the
pen has I found a seat on the empty carriage. You
know the type, he would not have looked out of place,
at your local newsagent. Instead of asking, "Did you
just drop a pen?". He asked, "Did you just get off
the Circle Line train?" When I nodded in agreement,
he passed me the pen. My cover had been blown. What
if he read my blog? What if he, would soon add a comment
revealing all. Of course, I am crazily exaggerating,
but is there the possibility? That on my daily ride
on the Underground
I casually smile at strangers on the train. Strangers
whom may know me better than I know myself? Perhaps,
but my blog does not have that mass appeal, some of
the more mainstream blogs have. Yes, it is selfish,
but it does have a mild purpose and slowly, together.
Yes, you and me are making some progress to that end.
These were just some of the thoughts that raced through
my mind, as the Asian 'Uncle' headed back to his seat,
diagonally opposite from me. As he looked up, he smiled.
A coy smile. Was my secret out? Had the superhero
been unmasked? Was my the secret safe, with this stranger?
On another note, did anybody notice, the large number of references to Back To The Future and Michael J. Fox in the 3rd series of Bo! Selecta. the quality overall went, this time around because they messed with the format, and the stars became bigger than the stars (does that make sense?) Some of the new characters did not have the magic of the older ones. (Did anybody else miss, a certain magician?) Will there be another series, or will the show die a quiet death? The later feels more likely, more predictable and just like the shows creator, much more fitting.
How was your weekend? Mine was quite uneventful.
I watched Johnny English on Sky
Movies on Saturday night. Generally, it was a
good way, to while away a few hours of the evening,
before Match
Of The Day. (Strange how Sky
Sports cannot even come close with their Football
First feature, "Game Of The Day". How tacky does that
sound!) I was out, so missed the record
leveling match against Middlesborough on Sunday
afternoon. For the full match analysis, from the man
who knows, go to Arse
Blog. Not much else of note, to report I am afraid,
as the month of August draws to a close. Work is very
much steady, with the last band of my colleagues taking
their summer holidays, to hotter and more gentle lands.
I have never been to Notting
Hill Carnival and have always wanted to go. Once
again, there were discussion with my friends at college
of going in 1999, although no body was in the mood
following events earlier in that summer. Maybe, this
year? Maybe the steel drums will be playing just for
me this weekend. :)
Thursday 19th August 2004
I will not lie to you, I have not been to any concerts.
Of all the artists in music history, past and present,
there are only two for whom I would have spent good
money to go see live. Although currently fighting
a legal court case, which could last for months, MJ
would be the one! Who would come second? Well there
are very few artists musically who can compete with
Michael Jackson. Elvis, of course. The queen of Pop,
started her Re-Invention
tour on Saturday. There are very few artists that
have such an impressive back catalogue, which is able
to embrace your every mood, emotion and time/scenario.
The music channels on Sky
were playing Madonna's
Greatest Hits. I have both the Immaculate
Collection and the more recent, GHV2.
Each song is a classic. Within a second taking you
to a very personal time and place. The power of music,
something that you can never define but when you feel
it, you know that you have been touched. Ask some
of your friends what their favourite Madonna
track is. I can guarantee that they they chose a song
from her earlier career than from her more recent
material. They are likely to chose "Crazy For You"
or "Cherish". There is one act of criminality. My
favourite track is missing from the first greatest
hits collection. Hoping to view the music video over
the weekend, I was disappointed that it was never
shown, not even on Magic. At 10pm, I had the television
on, and was scrolling down the music channels (you
know the drill by know guys, 440..441..442...) I reached
Q
and stopped. The song had just started, and the background
was blue. If anyone can explain, why "True Blue" is
not rated as one of Madonna's greatest songs, please
let me know. Surely she should be forgiven for the
peroxide blonde hair and pocadot dress. Then, would
you believe it, I receive this e-mail in my inbox
at work on Monday, last week. The plot does not just
thicken, it explodes...
When did you last burn? No, this is not some insane
reference to the recent number one from Usher.
I mean, created an audio CD. For me it has been several
months. I think it was the time I was in
between jobs. Thankfully this was a busy two week
period during Euro2004.
I am itching to be given the opportunity to burn and
the moment cannot come too soon. I have added so much
music to my world famous, Audio
collection. The reason for the delay is quite simple.
I no longer commute to work in my car. The twenty
hours of commuting are either spent a drifting into
micro sleep or reading (unfortunately not some major
literacy work, but the Metro).
With my mobile audio collection, it is merely a case
of re-issue a few albums for updates. However there
is one album that I have forever been thinking about
but never got around to actually producing. The Drive
Easy album was to be full of selective mellow tracks.
My sister, insisted on Life
for Rent for Christmas last year. Originally,
I had always believed that Dido
was a artist producing quality, if somewhat bland
material. This changed, the moment, I started listening
to this album. My sister had it in the car, and told
me to select track six, late on Monday evening, as
we drove into the night. Don't Leave Home, is an extremely
interesting track,with lyrics that do not just merely
entertain, but generate a response, a reaction. The
title track, itself is uniquely sentimental yet still
powerful enough for you to be moved. This is one artist
who is going to appear regularly on this easy listening
compilation for the car.
What do the 1980s mean to you? Do you ever wish you
could go back? I do, constantly. I have even mention to some friends, that I am willing to sell my soul to any willing bidder on eBay (only if the Devil is unavailable!) Finally, someone
has written a song about the best year of the 1980s.
How about this
for the name of an punk rock album? Pure class. Just like when I discover that the ground floor reception
number is (would you believe?) 1985...
Tuesday 17th August 2004
For the first time in several months, I do not know
what to write in my blog. Trying to find a tangible
reason for the lack of eagerness to write, I discover
quite frankly that it is due to the simply fact that
nothing interesting has been happening to be recently.
The summer is drawing on, yet I have very little to
report. Life is very monotonous at the moment, but
I do not mind. The train comes down the line, I go
to work, I come home. The destination is the weekend,
yet before I know where I've been or where I am going,
the train pulls up again to take me back on that journey,
that is working
week.
Time for a small confession. Over the past week and
two days weeks, I have only caught the bus to the
train station four times. Who is to blame for my reason
spout of laziness? Well, I have to blame the radio.
Forcing myself to listen to Clive Bull on LBC, late
into the night means, I only drift into natural sleep
around midnight. As a consequence, I find it extremely
difficult to get up in time, to be ready for the 326
at 6.09am. Having said that, as the service is only
into the bus station, I do cut a fine line to catch
the first train to London, which leaves at 6.39am.
Whether or not I make the train is a matter of luck?
Maybe luck just has not been on my side in recent
days, weeks or even months?
The Olympics
started in Athens on Friday. I am not a big fan of
the Games and I never have been to be quite honest.
Nothing there really appeals to me and it should be
a hundred percent amateur tournament, rather than
having some professional events. The Olympic dream
has died. A young athlete should see the Games as
the highlight of a career, and the moment to bridge
the gap from being an amateur, and then becoming a
professional. Is my judgment unrealistic? Let Diamond
Geezer proudly Let
The Games Begin. To something slightly more important
that started at the weekend also. Arsenal
began the new BarclaysPremiership
season very much as they ended the last one. For a
full match report and the latest news, please go and
read, the one, the only, the incredible, Arse
Blog. Make sure you let him know, I sent you!
;)
I think may have to add a disclaimer and a health warning to my blog. This does sound rather extreme, but some of my links can be highly hazardous to your health. Particularly, when you find a treasure, such a movie script and then waste away three hours reading it. We've all done it. I did the same when I discovered the original script for Back To The Future. What a wonderful way, to waste away three hours...
Friday 13th August 2004
The superhero theme continues. When something has
a lot to live up to, it rarely provides the goods.
This is a case in point, but we must be considerate
in our criticism. The DareDevil
is not a familiar hero to us in Europe, unless we
are big comic
book fans, which we are not. As a movie on it's
own, I think it does stand up very well. It is just
shame, that they cast Ben Affleck in the lead role.
An accomplished actor in his own right, but not superhero
quality. To play such a character, you need that special
edge, that larger than life presence on the screen.
Taking this aside, the film is enjoyable, even though
portraying the good versus evil battle in a completely
different light. You have to judge such a hero, on
his own merits and not in comparisons to the heavy
weights, such as Superman, Batman and Spiderman. DareDevil
may be less well known, and even less popular but
he still is a great superhero. If the hero is only
as good as his villain, then this falls over. The
ending is also confusion, surely the inner conflict
that our central character feels, should be resolved
and for him to be able to move on and do his duty.
As this question remains, how can we this be a superhero
with a purpose? Revenge, can only take you so far,
just ask Batman. My favourite movie in this genre?
There can be no contest (and I strongly believe there
never will be). Superman
II has everything. Like I said before, there is
nothing greater than the birth of the hero, than when
the hero returns. Everything is in this one movie.
Adversaries that take on the Man of Steel and you
think, can he cope, will he win? The hero unmasked,
and of course some great comical moments. Thanks to
Superman
Cinema I have been able to view the 1979
script for the movie. Scroll down to page 141
and read the scene in the bar. (You will know what
I mean, when you read it!) The final words of Clark
Kent should go down in movie history, "I've been working
out..." As he lifts up his arms, in the motion of
lifting weights. ;)
The following weekend, the Saturday night movie,
was The
Tuxedo. Released two years ago, this was slated
by the movie reviews and seen bad move by both lead
actors. When it comes to Jackie Chan movies, you have
to take a big step back. They are not to be taken
too seriously. This is more entertainment, with the
almost slapstick blend of comedy and fight scenes.
He is getting hold, but he can still put up quite
a show. Watching his movies now, you can see, that
he is much slower, for time waits for no man. The
movie was funny, if at times completely unbelievable,
but this is what comes with the territory Jackie's
English is getting better but he still hasn't made
that movie in Hollywood to be taken seriously as an
action star. Perhaps, Rush Hour 3, will prove his
critics wrong. I am not a fan of horror movies, not
even the sheepish teen horror movies. Give me comedy
and action, any day. I had heard many things about
The
Ring but never got around to watching it. Until
last weekend, when it premiered on Sky Movies. Shot
in an eerie style, with constant grey glow around
the images, it did play around with your mind and
have you on the edge of your seat, filled with utter
suspense. There was however, no true explanation of
events at the end, and the story ends, in the very
much the same vain that it began. Will you watch the
video and live?
The male lead in the movie, the over familiar looking
Martin
Henderson stars in the forthcoming Bollywood Brit
flick, Bride
& Prejudice.
How do you unwind on a Sunday evening? Knowing all
too well, that another week lies like a ghostly reflection
in the mirror, just a few hours away. Usually, I just
relax by listening to some music and laying in bed.
On Sunday, I was idly flipping around the channels
on Sky.
Completely by accident, I stumbled upon a movie and
started watching. For a while, I thought it was the
movie pilot for the television
series, but the presence of Jack
Black made me realise, I was watching something
completely different. This was definitely more my
cup of tea. Short for a movie, and starring some kids
with well known parents, but let us not take anything
away from anyone associated with this movie. Americans
can stretch most situations to the point of excess
but this is pure fantasy, yet we feel a strong bond
with the characters for the predicament they find
themselves in. Particularly with so many cameos, including
one by our dear ghost
buster. What added to the experience, was the
fantastic soundtrack which goes hand in hand with
the events which play out during the course of this
emotional roller coaster right for the potential college
student. I cannot recommend this movie enough, you
will enjoy it, I can guarantee that! :)
So, we come to the latest movie, which I saw on Wednesday
evening. i,Robot
is one of those films, you enjoy while you watch.
But later on, you think to yourself, did it truly
meet my expectations? Managing expectations for movies
is hard, much is the case for sequels (or prequels)
but for a blockbuster, they are unendurably. Will
Smith saves the world (yet again) but in this movie,
there is an edge about him, a gritty realism, that
was missing from his previous movies. I saw him in
Ali
three years ago, and he had made leaps and bounds
as an actor, particularly when you consider he started
off in the family comedy series, The
Fresh Prince of Bel Air back in 1990. The movie,
with it's tainted vision of the future, is fantastic.
The direction is stunning, with clever moments through
the picture, posing some interesting ethical questions.
Can we ever let technology become such an integral
part of our lives that it could one day, take over?
I am not so sure, there are times when the good
old fashioned way just gets the job done! :) Watch
out for the major product placement from a European
company!
Tuesday 10th August 2004
This morning felt more like dreary September, than
the early August. Yet, I battled through the cold
rain to get to the my bus stop and get to work on
time. There was little disruption to the Chiltern
Railways network but colleagues informed me of
the difficulties on other parts of the National
Rail network. I thought today was going to be,
one
of those days. In the end, it was never as bad
as I had imagined. The day passed off with no incident,
well the working day at least. As I headed home, the
sun was shining and there was an unfamiliar optimism
in the air. Everything is cool again. Even if that
is also reference to finding a seat on the air conditioned
Chiltern Turbo, for the journey home. Home is a step
closer, when you pull up at High Wycombe station.
Not quite Grand
Central but it is my journey to work ends and
begins.
People often ask me about my television viewing habits.
There are strictly only three things I watch on television,
football, some news and Eastenders.
The soap is on the rare occasion mention on this blog
and I do at times, try to comment on some of the things
going on. (Most notably, 1st
March, last year.) You
may recall a recent comic story line, of an outstanding
video rental fine. There are some moments in the
show, which have me in stitches. This was a case in
point, when newly appointed Billy Mitchell decided
to check the outstanding rentals and total up some
fines. Den Watts rented Porky's
2: The Next Day in February 1988. (A film which
was already 5 years old, at the time of rental). Billy
came up with a unbelievable fine of £9,000. This equates
to just over a £10 a week for the VHS tape. Curious,
I e-mailed Blockbuster
for some clarity on the terms of their fine system.
No time, in this current entry, but I will quickly briefly mention that I saw The Ring on Saturday night, followed by the movie, Orange County late on Sunday evening. Reviews to be added shortly, including my views on two other films, also recently screened on Sky. Should be catching, iRobot at the cinema tomorrow evening. Still hoping to catch Thunderbirds before they go!
Sunday 8th August 2004
On the late shift at work this week, I decided to
make the most of my free time in the mornings. A sensible
person would have much better use of this time available
to them, and spent it in bed. This was not something
I wanted to do. Not with one of the world's most picturesque
cities to go and explore. I would be foolish to waste
the summer, working and not taking in the many sight
seeing opportunities around me. There was my brief.
To get into Central London by 8am and then go and
explore, take photographs and ultimately to find inspiration.
Inspiration for my blog, to feel, to understand, to
be moved.
Monday morning, I headed for Piccadilly Circus. Hoping
to capture the mood of the city after the weekend,
and with the heavy working week minutes from being
truly upon us. Little did I know that somebody
else would be recorded, famous
places down the street where I work. How was I
to know this was to be his
first calling point. I walked down the road, to Leicester
Square, to see a busy clear up operation coming to
an end. Delivery vans were making the first calls
of the morning, with a general relaxed and calming
overtone, which I was struggling to understand. As
I crossed the square, there were a few early commuters
scurrying towards work, but apart from them, there
was nobody around. A few people grabbing their first
dosage of caffeine of the morning, so I decided to
do the same. Although several more reasonable options
were available to me, I again had an urge for Starbucks.
I headed up towards Tottenham Court Road and then
passed Goodge Street tube station. There was a small
cosy branch, which invited me in. I had my mug of
tea, then headed to the underground station. What
to do? I wanted to take in the views from the river.
I was considering at first to go to London Bridge,
but headed a few stops further down the Jubilee Line
to Canada Water. These new tube stations lookso futuristic
and break from the mould of claustrophobic Victorian
model. Time was running out, I had to get to work.
Tuesday, was the day, which I had planned very differently.
In the end, as I started at 9am, I could not really
make anything out of an odd hour. So I just headed
to work, early instead. Not to know, home sweet home
would not be a prospect for 7pm, as it should have
been.
Wednesday, I headed to Embankment. This is the station
at which I change to catch the Circle or District
Lines. Just outside the station is the Golden
Jubilee Bridge. Walking across to the South Bank,
you can catch some nice glimpses of the London landscape.
Sitting down on a bench, I took in the beautiful sunny
morning. As the rest of the rat race, dashed to work,
before me.
Just behind the bridge you can see the Palace
of Westminster before which stands the British
Airways London Eye. I headed in that direction,
east towards Westminster Bridge, camera snapping as
much I could.
Crossing over towards Westminster tube station, I
took a final few pictures of the observation wheel,
before heading into work. It was coming up towards
10am, and I had no desire to arrive late.
I had made the decision on Monday that I wanted to
come down to the Docklands and more specifically Canary
Wharf to take some photographs. Would have done this
on Monday, but by lounging around the West End, and
drinking my tea, as if I was on some kind of holiday,
meant I did not have the luxury of time.
Did you go to the Millennium
Dome? I did not. Even though there was talk in
1999, within my circle of friends of going down when
it opened that December. Little happened on that front,
talk quickly died down, as it did with us going to
watch England play at Wembley. :( I wish I had gone
to it, at least then I could have given my true opinion,
rather than just one based on thirdly party information.
A few years ago, my friends did talk about going there
for a big clubbing event on New Years Eve. I am not
sure if it actually did take place, due to security
issues, but I remember back at University someone
mentioning it, so perhaps it did. From Canary Wharf,
you can make out the Dome in the distance. Walking
around, I could see there was a high security presence
across this business district. All cars were being
stopped and searched, with only those with valid passes
being allowed through in the underground car parks
and offices. Something suddenly crossed my mind. Here
I was, an Asian guy taking photographs of London's
biggest landmarks at a stupid time in the morning,
when in reality I should really be somewhere else.
None of the security guards stopped to question me,
or find out why I was taking photographs. I was just
regarded as some tourist, taking the offbeat track.
Great to see, so much money being pumped back into
the development of Canary
Wharf. Hopefully it will grow to be a place, I
can enjoy to come and visit, when all the building
work has finally finished.
For a split second, I thought I was in America. With these towering skyscrapers all around me, and small intersections in the built up area. Slowly I came out of my daydream, looking at my watch, it was coming up to 9.30am, I had to be on my way.
I was going to say that it was that man again, but
he is still very much just a boy,
help Arsenal clinch the Community Shield earlier this
afternoon. Picking up just where he left off last
season, glad to see he is knocking on the door and
proving a great option for the left of midfield. Expect
a fine review and the latest on the Vieria situation
from Arse
Blog. Overall, I was impressed with Pennant, who
obviously has learned many things from his season
loan at Leeds. Another player I enjoyed watching was
the young, Fabregas.
He was quick, breaking up Manchester's attacks and
then quickly switching the play with great vision
and killer passes. Can you believe he is only 17?
Bring on Everton!
Friday 6th August 2004
A break from the norm. Rather than darting from work
back to Marylebone, I took the civilized approach.
Only because I was traveling on the tube with a colleague.
We headed onto the main concourse at Marylebone, with
our eyes peeled to the departure board. Lady luck
was shining for one of us. The train on platform two
was heading in the direction of home, but would not
get me there. Terminating at Gerrards Cross (two stops
short from my beloved home town!). This would come
to haunt me later, little did I know it then. So I
watched, as my colleague sped towards the barriers
and headed onto his train. I had a short wait on my
hands, around ten minutes, so I thought. The 17:45
service, usually starts boarding around 17:35. The
clock ticked on, the station got busy. Busier than
usual. Something was wrong, but I thought nothing
of it. I would be on my train soon, heading home and
my mind drifted some 40 miles away, to the leafy suburbs
of Buckinghamshire. The explosive sound of a bomb,
echoed around the station. My dream was shattered.
Instantly, we looked to the platforms, but this sound
was closely followed by heavy rain being heard thundering
down onto the roof. Looking outside, I saw passers-by,
taken by surprise, completely drenched within seconds,
without a chance to even get that umbrella out. An
unfamiliar voice had been making announcements on
the tannoy. I had grown accustomed to a firm male
voice. Was this her first day? It seemed so. All services
from Marylebone were suspended until further notice.
My heart sank, as I delved into my pockets to find
any lose change. Of all the days, to leave my mobile
at home, fate had dealt me, the most inconsiderate
of cards. Is this someway of testing my ability in
extreme situations? (This wouldn't be the first time,
would it now?) Luckily, I had some coins to make that
call home. My Dad was on his way, but I had no idea
of how long the journey into Central London would
take him, with the weather as it was. At an estimate,
I was looking at my ride home making it to the station,
within forty minutes or so. I was being optimistic
beyond my wildest dreams. Little did I know of the
chaos
that was ensuing outside. Commuters kept drifted into
the station, coming to the realisation that tonight's
journey home, was going to take longer, a lot longer.
Grabbing a drink and some chocolate bars, I took a
seat and looked around me. It was tempting to record
the moment. Hundreds of faces in a trance on the departure
screens, which appeared to have the hypnotic power,
putting them all in a longing trance. Deciding against
making their extreme frustration public, I looked
at the clock. Time to wait outside. The rain had stopped.
Some trains had started to leave, but none stopping
to my desired destination. Outside, there was rush
for the
Hackney Carriage. Bumper trade for them this evening.
I waited. I waited. The rain resumed. Rummaging deep
into my bag, I picked out my travel umbrella. The
first time, the need had come for me to use it. I
continued to wait. Standing opposite the entrance
to The
Landmark, I watched the chauffeur driven Mercedes
and BMW's, drop off and pick up guests. A silver Mercedes
S-Class was parked out in front of me. The chauffeur
was making the most of the situation, he was reading
a newspaper. Forty minutes had past, it was pushing
7pm now. Standing a few yards from this luxury saloon,
I noticed the window effortlessly come down, and the
driver pop his head out. Expected to be told to move
away from the car, I got ready to make my way back
into the station. Instead, a I was greeted with a
smile. "You've been waiting out there for ages, do
you want to give someone a call. It's hell out there,"
the stranger said, passing, me his Nokia
6210i. Surprised and taken aback by the kindness
of this man, I mistyped my Dad's mobile number the
first time. They were in Greenford. "Your joking(!)"
exclaimed the good samaritan as I returned him his
mobile phone, explaining the little progress my ride
home had made. I headed back into the station, realising
that I needed to eat now, I would not be getting home
for a good few hours. I headed to Burger
King as it was the only place not busy and serving
food. I couldn't handle a full meal, so just had a
burger. Then I sat down for a few minutes. The waiting
continued. The clock continued to tick away the seconds.
I looked again at the departure board, a few services
were leaving but most had been cancelled. It had gone
past 19.35, I was missing Eastenders.
Thankfully I would be able to catch the late night
repeat on BBC
Three. The frustration of waiting inside the station
was getting to me so, I headed outside again. Waiting
for a brief gap in the rain shower, I headed towards
the taxi rank again. It was busier than before with
at least twelve people waiting to catch a cab. I found
a spot, where I could down both ends of the road,
and clearly see vehicles coming towards me. How much
longer would I have to wait? It was ten, minutes before
8pm, my Dad pulled up outside the station entrance.
Three hours ago, I had left the office. My journey
home began. An hour, and I thought I would be home.
Dream on. I just did not realise the effect a little
storm, with a few hours of rain would have on our
transport system. Trying several routes, but never
sticking to any road clogged up with traffic, we headed
in and around North West London, from Kilburn, Cricklewood,
Wembley and then Ealing, before joining onto the A40,
just before Uxbridge. I got home at 11pm. It had been
a long hard day at the office, but a much harder night
on road and rail.
In the continued shameless marketing of this website,
I have joined the Brit
Blog directory. Of course, if you enjoy reading
my blog, feel free to link to me but always drop
me an e-mail. The barefaced exploitation will
persist, be rest assured.
Although now, I do not listen to much commericial
radio, apart from the odd time, I find myself in a
car. I do listen to Clive Bull. This discovery occurred
last summer, at the time of Doctor
Kelly's suicide. The FM frequency, 97.3, used
to broadcast, News
Direct but switched with the sister MW station,
LBC.
Renamed to LBC
News and broadcasting on 1152AM. Enjoy listening
to Clive, in the evenings. His conversational and
comic style come across very well on the show, when
he discusses various topical subjects. I also like
his sense of humour and his way of turning a caller
against him. You may have heard of the recent trend
of ASBO's.
Well a caller was discussing this subject and wanted
one such order
to be taken out against, Tony Blair. Clive's response
was to say, "Yeah, starting a war, that is blooming
anti-social". You too can catch Clive
every weekday evening from 10pm only on LBC.
Sunday 1st August 2004
So August is upon us. A fresh start. A special month.
Uniquely slotted in between July and my favourite
time of year, September. The football season re-starts.
The kids are on holiday. Many are away on holiday.
The silly season, as often referred to by the tabloid
press.
Are you a gamer? More importantly, are you a good
gamer?
I took my XBox console out of retirement last Sunday.
It had been almost seven months since I last played
on the video game console from Microsoft.
I am not a gamer. Not even a mediocre gamer. Never
have been. Although I have played various games in
my life, I never been very good at them. There was
a phase in the mid to late 90s, when I would purchase
every copy of FIFA. Before that phase, I was heavily
into football management, and worshipped Championship
Manager. There was also the 'shoot 'em up' era,
when I played games such as Wolfenstein 3D (what a
classic!), Rise of the Triad, Doom and Quake. The
only way I could possibly make progress in these games,
was to obtain the cheats from the web and then blast
my way through all the levels. Is this some sort of
genetic disorder? A player, unable to play the game
without the aid of the codes. Back in the second year
at University, in the rest bite before lectures, we
would play Mario Kart on my friend's N64.
We hand four controllers, so we were able to play
group games. Who would be last? Yes, you've guessed
it. I think the most significant moment, was when
I was third for the final two laps of the circuit,
only to be overtaken a few hundred metres before the
finish line. Happy memories for some. A humiliating
time for me. Back to the present. The main reason
I opened up my boxed XBox was to play GTA
III and it's successor, GTA
Vice City. Not exactly the titles to be discussing
in light of recent tragic
events. However, I loaded up my saved game, but
completely disorientated by the setting, I had no
idea exactly how far I had got. (Don't worry, I was
not very far in the game at all, even after over tens
hours of play!) I headed outside into the street from
the hotel (or is it motel?) and jumped into a taxi
(it was the first vehicle I could physically stop
and hijack) Then toggled on the Taxi Mission. I completed
one pickup and drop off successfully, before getting
bored and switching off the console. Pathetic. The
XBox you will be happy to know is boxed again, and
will be reopened for another 20 minutes of play in
another seven months time.
My website is 4 today. Of those four years, nearly
two have been recorded in my blog. I was looking back,
reading my first entry from August
last year, to jog my memory on what I was doing, feeling
and thinking some 12 months ago. Then I was enjoying
a lazy, empty summer. Now, what is different? Just
the fact that I am working, so the week is not as
empty, but the rest of the time, much the same. Sleep,
eat, blog a little and more sleep.
Arsenal are in friendly action this afternoon, as
they take part in the Sony
Amsterdam Tournament. The game on Friday against
River Plate, was very much a non-event. With Jose
Antonio Reyes, showing glimpses of the magic, he showed
towards the end of the last season. The Gunners play
the hosts, Ajax on Sunday and I hope Wenger fields
a more experienced team for this match. As always,
for the latest news and views on The Invincible Champions
(doesn't that sound great!?) check out ArseBlog.
I was in central London on Sunday last week. I was
hoping to blog about this earlier, but just never
got around to it. I met up with my friend, Tam
from Warwick.
He is now, off on a tour of Europe, with three of
his University friends, this was an opportunity for
us to meet up before he headed across over to the
continent. We were to meet up in Trafalgar Square,
but it was brimming with tourists. Then I noticed
that a Sikh parade was about to pass through and waited
to witness the event. That is the beauty of our capital.
There is always something going on, no matter the
time of day or year. Unfortunately, I did not bring
my digital camera. Thankfully, Tam did, so he took
some snaps.
Can you switch off your mobile? I found it one of
the easiest things to do. No problems. I enjoy being
able to disconnect myself from the rest of the world.
Some of my friends however could never do such a thing.
They have a major complex about it. One keeps his
mobile on, 24 hours a day. Who exactly is going to
call you up at 3am on a Wednesday morning? Also became
aware of another hidden complexity when it comes to
mobile phones. This did not happen until I got to
University. The fear of the 'withheld number'. One
of my previous housemates, refused to answer the phone
if the number was not shown on his mobile screen.
What is wrong with you people? Please! Many companies
operate a strict policy, to not give out phone numbers
so no number is displayed when they call. I never
hesitate to answer the phone, regardless of the fact
if I know the caller on not.
Last night, listening to the radio, as you do. I
was switching around the various London based radio
stations. I heard the chorus ofa song. The song was
familiar, although I could not quite put my finger
on it. However, the vocals were so distinctive. Instantly
recognizing the artist, for her signature style and
range. They don't let any old person sing the title
for a James Bond film. You know that. Listening to
the song, as it trailed off, I thought for a long
while. Yes, this was the answer I was looking for.
"Nothing Stays The Same..." I know that now, or am
slowly coming to realise the significance of those
four words. As much I wish things were the same as
they were several years ago, this will never be the
case. So, we have found the soundtrack for the coming
week. A difficult week, I know that already. What
exactly the week holds, I do not know for sure. Plenty
of time to prepare. I know that certain things will
just be coming around again...
And I Believe In Love
But What Else Can I Do
I'm So In Love With You
I Know Nothing Stays The Same
But If You're Willing To Play The Game
It's Coming Around Again
Friday 30th July 2004
My shift patterns have been erratic to say the least
this week. Although home time had been set to 4pm,
for four days, I only actually left the office at
that time on Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday turn out to
be, when I had a brush with royalty. Although, my
lunch slot is midday, it was a bit later when I got
a chance to escape my desk. My firm provides a fantastic
subsidised restaurant on the first floor, offering
an array of culinary delights. It is the summer, and
I would rather make more suitable use of my lunch
hour. (The hour is an overstatement, on average my
lunch break lasts some 26 minutes and rarely over
40.) I would be foolish not to make the most of the
opportunity that the man
upstairs, has so firmly placed in my hands. I
am in one of the greatest cities in the world, and
that is no over exaggeration. So I head across to
the courtyard, behind St. Paul's. Aptly named, "KnightRider
Court". Having been the victim of daylight
robbery at the local, Pret
a Manger, Benjys
or on the odd occasion, Simply
Food, from Marks
and Spencer. Grabbing a sandwich and a drink,
I try to observe the many people I see. Between the
hordes of Japanese, American and other European tourists
(whom, are insignificant, so therefore, their countries
will not get listed) there are joggers. Usually in
groups of two or three. Sweating their way across
the capital, having crossed, the Millennium
Bridge. Then of course, there are the suits, which
I would have to class myself with. Very much in a
similar position, rushing through a light snack, before
heading off back to the office. Most of them are with
colleagues or friends and tend to be talking about
work. Not the most fascinating way to spend your one
break away from the mill, for the day. Up until now,
my lunch time observations have been nothing to write
home about. (Or should that be, blog home about?)
Apart from taking a digital photograph for a tourist
a few weeks ago, nothing exciting, or should that
me newsworthy has ever happened. Until now. I looked
at my watch, time was clicking away. I had to make
my way back to the office, so I hurriedly finished
my rubbish and headed back. Thinking nothing of it,
I headed back, past St. Paul's. Something was different.
Everything had stopped. The pedestrians, and the traffic.
I was heading down Ludgate Hill, with the landmark
cathedral at my back. A police motorcyclist popped
up, and stopped the traffic in both directions. Someone
was on their way. Someone important. My first thoughts
drifted to Downing
Street but do they also say,
what they do?
Maybe, but that is not a question for us now. I was
proved wrong, as the motorcade came into view, turning
the corner on Maria Lane, onto Ludgate Hill. Then
the state
limousine came into view. My second guess had
been proved right, but who has time for second chances?
The cars fleeted past with several police motorbikes,
shielding our Monarch. Although Her Royal Highness,
appeared somewhat withdrawn from the whole experience.
The notion that 'her people' had stopped to catch
a fleeting glimpse of their Queen. I noticed the hint
of a smile, then His Royal Highness, Prince Philip,
raise a hand to acknowledge the crowds. With the busy
London streets brought to a standstill, the motorcade,
made swift process down Ludgate Hill, heading westward.
They were gone. Awakening from my daydream, reality
slowly crept on me, as it did the many people whom
had stopped along side me. Back to work, I heard a
voice in the crowd firmly say. I don't think he had
intended for his comment to have such a large audience.
I briskly headed back to the office, trying my best
to meander through the tourists, congratulating themselves
on finding such a prime spot for some royal photograph.
It is times like this, I realise how important it
is to carry my digital camera with me as often as
possible. A camera phone, just would not have captured
the beauty of the moment. Maybe this was a moment,
far beyond anything Kodak
could capture.
As long as I can remember, I have had a fleeting
love affair with pop music. Some may say that is it
the most bland and insignificant music. It is true
to say that the music industry has become very segregated
in the past four years or so. Each genre, distinct
with it's style, sound and even fashion accessories.
As much I enjoy listening to a range of music, I always
come back to pop. But not just any old pop. I like
Pure Pop. What exactly is 'Pure Pop'? It is difficult
to describe and explain, but when you hear an example,
you just know. Let me try my best to explain, what
in my personal and very humble opinion institutes,
"pure pop". The vocal is very important, this must
be strong, have a good range and ultimately be able
to carry the song alone. Then come lyrics, these have
to be powerful, yet still hold some comfort. The aim
is to get the balance in favour for performance, rather
than impact. Then the musical arrangement. This is
the killer ingredient and ultimately makes the difference
between a song breaching the pure perfection barrier.
A song can have great lyrics, with a great singer,
but if the final product is far from polished, the
overall standard is greatly reduced. Unfortunately,
there have been only a few pioneers of such creative
music manufacturer in this country. Although the Americans,
do have their fair share of great producers, for them,
the artist sells the song, rather than the other way
round (which I feel is more so the case, this side
of the pond). Stock,
Aitken & Waterman have a god-like status within
the UK music industry. I disagree, that pure pop is
actually, bubblegum
pop. Genie In The Bottle, the debut single by
Christina Aguilera from 1999 is what I can use as
the an example. It has everything that I have mentioned
above and much much more. If you are an regular reader
of Pop
Justice music blog, you will note that they are
continually pushing for the return of this type of
music to our airwaves and television screens. The
latest production from Pete, is the quartet, aptly
named, Pop!
The name does sound corny, as do some of the lyrics
of their songs, but the polished final product is
amazing. The songs do stand up very well on themselves,
great radio friendly material. So watch out for Glenn,
Hannah, Jade and Jamie. Will they finally take Pure
Pop to the credible place it belongs?
I had so much on mind to blog about, during the course
of my train journey home this evening. A rare air
conditioned Chiltern Turbo, brought me in from Marylebone
to Wycombe. This gave me the ideal chance to put the
week into place and begin formulating plans for the
weekend. There is so much I want to do, but not sure
if I will have the opportunity to get everything completed,
by the time Sunday evening comes around. There is
also, so much more to blog about. For the time being,
I will just have to leave you with the two above after
thoughts from my week. A quick question? What gets
you in the mood for the weekend? What small event
or message or weekly ritual sends you the clear message,
"it's the weekend!". For me, it is always music. While
Javine's performance on Top
Of The Pops was fantastic, choreographed succinctly
with the tempo of the music, it did not have the desired
affect. Instead it was left to those Irish rockers,
Ash
to bring down the house, with 'Burn Baby Burn'.
You're all I have in this teenage twilight
Your golden hair and pale blue eyes
But through all the days and the sleepless nights
We have never been satisfied
Tumbling like the leaves
Yeah we are spiraling on the breeze
Almost to the point of no return
Everything will burn,
baby,
burn
Tuesday 27th July 2004
Planning and management is important. Even for some of the straightforward of tasks, you would think that a small degree of thought would go a long way. In my personal experience, this is never the case. Although I forever, dream of that Hannibal moment. I am forever waiting for the moment to say, "I love it when a plan comes together". Everything always appears painless in theory but becomes much more complicated in practice. It is also strange how the ideas you have can, may initially sound fantastic, refreshing and fully workable. Then, a few hours later, they appear completely stupid. Am I the only person to notice this pattern? Or shall I stop making such insignificant observations?
Passing comments, which appear quite harmless and
unworthy at the time they are made. However, they
stick with you for days, even weeks on end. Does this
happen to you? It has happened to me, as long as I
can remember. A comment is made, in a situation which
appears quite friendly and trusting. Often accused
of looking far too deep into things (and I am not
alone, this one comment can later surface,
and be played on constant repeat in my head. Usually
on the way home. A case in point, is yesterday afternoon.
A colleague made the idle comment, "let someone walk
over you once, they will be doing it for the rest
of your life...". Taking this out of context means,
it lacks any specific meaning. Not wishing to explain,
in any detail the circumstances surrounding this conclusion,
I shall say only a few words. Yes, the advice was
dispelled to me. Something said in jest, which I frankly
took as a joke, was misinterpreted by others as a
possible example of verbal abuse. I rewinded the moment
and played it back, as I drifted off to sleep on the
train home. Was I really allowing myself to be used
in such a way? I think not. But the comment had sprung
out from somewhere and there was a need to evaluate,
no only the situation, but my own policy, should such
an occasion present itself again. My conclusion? We
only let people walk all over us, if they know they
can get away with it. If they are aware that all everyone
has a limit and that eventually, giving an inch and
taking a mile. You will run out of road. The moral
of the story is of course, to never
let anyone use you as a doormat. I agree, but
I think sometimes, we need to know our place. There
are times, when being used as a doormat, is acceptable,
and at other times, when people begin taking your
good human nature, for a ride. When you really need
to start considering who are your true friends and
enemies.
What is the true power of MP3? No, I am not talking
about the taking on the capitalist greed of the major
record labels. I am not even talking about the ability
to share your music collection with a great number
of people. I am talking about being exposed to new
genres of music. New artists and sounds, which without
the digital music format, you would never have heard.
I commented on this topic, in detail in my entry from
April 2003. Greg, a
colleague, who also works on the support desk, started
work a week before I did. I pointed him the direction
of my website, and he eagerly download my mp3 database.
After converted it to a 'print friendly format', he
scanned the listing. Far down the list, he came across
a collection of three songs by an American band, exclaiming
that they were a 'great band'. I agreed. To my surprise,
he commented on how, I was the first person in the
UK to share his appreciation for the Gainesville,
Florida group. My reply, was to explain, what I have
already explained to my regular readers. Sister
Hazel have their own very distinct and unique
signature sound. Instantly recognizable as, from any
of their tracks, no matter how obscure, that this
is 'that' group. Very few bands ever achieve such
unique radio friendly status, Duran
Duran comes to mind as having successfully achieved
the uphill task. Looking on his iPod,
he showed me the few albums he had, and there was
a pause. I had to ask for them on CD. Consider
it done. It was. I now have a full CD, with an
assortment of albums, including a live selection of
tracks. Also, taking on Greg's recommendation, he
included, material from Matchbox
20. A band, I was sure to like, if I liked the
type of music that Sister Hazel produced. Although
I have not listened to many of the tracks, I know
that they are a band, I will enjoy listening to. Right,
now where is that old, portable CD player?
I have not seen Thunderbirds, yet! I was hoping to
catch it on Sunday evening, but unfortunately the
early evening showing was booked. I will try and catch
it this coming weekend. A confession if I may. I am
looking forward to more, taking a step back into my
childhood more than anything else, when I step into
the dark theatre screen. Twelve again, for two hours!
Yes please! But reality sets in and my dream world
comes tumbling down. I am not on summer holiday and
I have work to go to in the morning. Next time, next
time the dream will last forever. - taking a giant
leap back into my childhood. Do I have to leave the
cinema? For the fantasy that is born there, shall
live with me forever, but the reality that arrives,
the second you walk out of the cinema screen. Do we
ever, escape
our childhood? I don't think so, but then there
must come a point when our childhood becomes less
important. I remember, during my placement, a colleague,
said to me that they no longer remember anything from
their school days or anything beyond their early twenties.
"All that doesn't matter, anymore, Andrew", I was
sturdily told. But if that is the case, then what
actually
matters?
It is getting late, I really want to get a good nights
sleep. The next entry will include my obsession, with
Pure Pop! New music from Twen2y4Se7en and a Royal
chance meeting. I wish I could include these topics
now, but I just do not have the time, so you will
have to wait for my next installment, later in the
week.
Friday 23rd July 2004
Can you predict the future?
I cannot and make no false claims to be able to do
so. Let us make that small fact, quite clear from
the offset. (It is pure coincidence, that my recent
discussion on instant messenger, appears again, in
the context of blogging on Diamond
Geezer.) However, I can always take an educated
stab in the dark, to picture together how small pieces
of tomorrow's jigsaw will appear. How they all fall
together, that is anyone's guess. We can all be forgiven
for sometimes, taking a step into the dark side. For
playing
Devil's advocate and even talking
of the devil. On my many bus journeys home, my
mind drifts from the present and even future and skips
dreamily into my past. A friend. A thought popped
into my mind. When would I see her again? It was not
the case that she was one of my close friend's at
primary school. Nevertheless, someone I knew, and
would always speak to. Why had I thought of her at
this moment time. An idle Tuesday evening, on the
326 bus. My mind was not playing tricks on me. It
was warning me. A premonition, if you may. When was
the last time I saw Elaine? It was in 1999, on the
329 bus from college to home. The final stop in Marlow
before the diesel engine sputters the dated chassis
up the hill Wycombe. On Thursday evening, I was boarding
my usual 17:45 train home and I entered the carriage
as normal, taking a window seat, need the middle of
the coach. As I took of my jacket, with my body struggling
to adjust to the swealtering heat and humidity. I
looked up to see, beyond the visions of my own dreams,
Elaine board the train. Now, I am not one to believe
in such things occurring. Not like this. Destiny is
all conquering and we are mere mortals, in the way
of such a menancing force. To think a thought one
day, then for the next day, that person, to be brought
to you. In such a way. It cannot be true. What are
the chance? This particular train is one of the busiest
and the chances of two old school friends picking
exactly the same section of the same coach is unbelievable.
I was going to let the moment pass. Pass up the opportunity
to speak to my old friend. Ten years had passed by.
Ten long years, since we had left Lansdowne County
Middle School. Such are the mysteries
of fate that they are a rule to themselves. It
was exactly to the day, since we had broken up for
our last summer holidays. September 1994, bought with
it, the horror of the big school. The last school.
The secondary school. I knew if I did not, at least
say hello, I would forever regret this golden opportunity.
Would I ever get this chance again? No, such opportunities
arrive once in a lifetime. It was not until the end
of the forty minute train journey, that I was finally
able to gather my thoughts, and recover from the shock
to surprise Elaine as she disembarked the train. I
had ten minutes. I had to use them wising. After explaining
what I was doing now, I attempted to throw the names
of some old classmates into the hat. To little effect.
Names remain faceless, without a picture or a memory.
Will we be back in touch soon? I will try, for the
moment came to past quicker than I had ever imagined.
Did she release the great that had just come to pass?
I doubt it, for it was all a case of coincidence.
For me, it was much more than that. Strangers on the
train. Leave, as they boarded, knowing that little
bit less, but feeling that much bit more.
As you may be aware, I have long been campaigning
for a blog. Well not any old blog. The blog. The blog
that should co-exist with mine. If my blog was the
Sun, then this blog would be the Moon. Nobody knows
how it happened. There are some strange theories.
But then, although I am not talking about the big
bang. But this subconscious decision has completely
changed my internet experience. The decision to start
blogging. Sibtain
started, in March 2003, the same time at which I finally
began labeling my online journal, as a blog. The tube
is full of advertising, as you will be aware. There
is however one small bill board that caught my eye,
several weeks ago. Any
Questions Answered, does exactly what it claims.
No fancy buzz words here, no new shiny technology.
No gimmicks (or is it a gimmick in itself?) Want an
answer to a question? Text in to their special number
and an answer will be provided. Anything can be asked,
from "Who will win the Coca Cola Championship, next
season?" Do more embarrassing questions, when your
mother or other domestic help is unavailable, "How
do I get chewing gum off my Levi 501s?". I was tempted
to text in, "When will Sippy's blog be up?" Should
I really waste £1 (plus my standard text rate) on
such a silly question. When I know the answer already?
The answer is simple. When Sippy gets time. After
several weeks away, the out-dated coming soon page
has reappeared at the above domain. When will we see
a finished product?
Jim Branning, has been literally stealing the show
on Eastenders
in recent weeks. If you know one thing about me, is
that of all the things I cannot miss on television,
the BBC
soap opera, is that
show. Anyway, the classic line from Thursday's installment,
"Hello, Patrick Truman's bachelor residence!". Maybe
I am the only person who found that hilarious at the
time (well twice, I watched it again on BBC
Three later that same evening. A line from last
week included Jim calling Ian, "Ironside". :)
After waiting over seven months, I only got a small
taste of a music video. In December, I uncovered the
identity of the track which had been playing on the
BBC trails of the Asian
Network. Dr. Zeus featuring Master Rakesh - Kanga,
was the name of the track. B4U Music
played a medley of songs from the album, 'Under Da
Influence', including a brief snip of the aforementioned
video. Shame, after such a long wait, I was quite
disappointed. I suppose, when you have a dance floor
filler in such vain, you expect much more money to
be thrown at it. Never mind. It was never going to
be enough, was it?
Tuesday 20th July 2004
Which is your favourite instant
messenger? I started off with ICQ
in the late 90s, building up a contact list of two
hundred people, around the world. Then, I gave Yahoo!
Messenger a go. Early versions were rather basic
and slow, but it slowly improved. Then in 1999, when
I created my Hotmail
account, I discovered, MSN
Messenger and I was converted forever. Originally
with the Hotmail account, andrewtegala@hotmail.com,
I forgot my password and rarely used the account.
It was one idle Friday afternoon, while in college,
I setup a new address. Most of the time I am online,
MSN is running. Even at work, I have it on in the
background. On Monday, I was answering phones most
of the morning, but then had to leave my desk for
an urgent install. Minutes later, I remembered that
I had left my PC unlocked and MSN clearly running.
What if someone, in their lunch hour had decided to
have a quick chat. I returned to my desk, to find
an instant message conversation window, open. It was
Sippy. He had decided to say, "Hi", with a few minutes
spare on his lunch break. I did not even have the
opportunity to give me a response, I had to rush on.
I had loads of jobs on, and my lunch hour had slipped
away, into 2pm. Not to worry. Plenty of the week remaining
for these knots of trouble to untie themselves. My
friend, Nav recommended the program, MSN
Messenger Plus. Downloading it in November 2003,
I have never looked back, until now. When you discover
how much you cannot operate without the utility. Mainly
because people have this unfounded desire to give
label themselves with a catchphrase or tag line, because
their real name is so boring. I, of course, would
never fall to such low standards! ;)
My views on cinema, are quite well know and well
published on this blog. I never obtain movies from
anything but legal means. Watching a film at the cinema,
buying or renting the DVD or even catching a showing
on Sky
Movies is much better than going down, the download
route. I describe myself, as the average 'joe' cinema
goer (poor attempt at rhyming, I admit!) Catching
only the major blockbusters at the big multiplexes,
preferring to watch the majority of my films from
the comfort of my own home. I like action, adventure,
science fiction, comedy and even some more family
orientated pictures. This was the second time I was
going to the 'revamped' FilmWorks.
The Matrix sequel, had been my first time there in
April 2003. If first impressions are everything, then
this was a non-starter. The tickets at the UCI 6 screen
complex, and cinemas in general have gone through
a slow evolution. First was the dot matrix, a overthrow
from the 1980s, printed out on paper, (which still
had the perforated edges for the printer). Then the
small thin card squares, with the even deep set printing.
Now? Now, a pathetic excuse for paper, which is more
closely described as tracing paper you used to use
in primary school, with tickets measuring 6cm by 4cm.
What has the world come to? Glad I do not make it
a regular habit to go the UCI brand of cinema. Vue
shall always have my future business.
There is nothing greater than the birth
of a hero, than his return.
I need to clarify this. I strongly believe no hero
is ever born. They are made. Built by the environment
and the potential nemesis that lies in wait. I love
heroes. Reluctant heroes are the best for the silver
screen. We share with them their desire to balance
a normal life, yet always depend upon them to save
the day, and come to our rescue. (We don't want much,
do we?!) As much I have enjoyed the Superman movies
and Christopher
Reeve's portray of the Man of Steel. Something
was missing. I like my heroes to have that human element,
that vulnerability which is why heroes such as The
Shadow and The
Phantom appeal to me. Spiderman is in that very
category. His gift is also his weakness. We could
get into a deep discussion about heroes and villains,
benevolent versus malevolent but I will leave that
for another day. The movie is fantastic and I cannot
recommend highly enough for you to go down your local
multiplex to watch it. Action scenes play out like
intimate ballet, the direction is yet again breathtaking
and the vision of Sam
Raimi to take Stan
Lee's comic book creation to the big screen is
unparalleled. Did you spot the creator's cameo? It
was very brief, and if you weren't paying attention
you would have missed it, in the blink of an eye.
The great thing about a movie such as this is as you
leave the cinema, to head home. You are overcome,
by an warmth inside. This so called, 'feel good feeling',
is letting you know. Yes, our heroes will always conquer
the villains. Good will always triumph over evil,
and maybe, just maybe the hero shall never have to
question his existence, his place again. We begin,
only now to learn that true meaning of Uncle Ben's
solemn word's, "With great power, comes great responsibility".
We cannot deny one, without the other.
Saturday 17th July 2004
Most mornings, as I munch on my Kellogg's Crunchy Nut Corn Flakes, I watch television. I tend to just watch music channels
and look out for something interesting to listen to and wake me up. Usually, it the same select few videos being shown, at
what is still deemed nightshift period for the channel operators. Flickering around as I do, I came to Magic and heard the opening few beats to a song, I started
listening to a few months ago. My longing to see the video had come true. Not knowing what to expect, but the video was in
the abrupt style of the artist, rather than meeting any desire of the movie, Pretty Woman from 1990. Funny how I only discovered the song, by a chance choice of my housemate, in April. The question though, is what gets you up in the morning?
Friday was a strange day for me. I had been expecting to work until 6pm, however, to aid a colleague, I swapped to the 9 to
5 slot. I do not have a problem working until 6pm, but on a Friday, I just have a great urge to get home, and get the weekend
started. Heading home at an alien hour was a new experience. My tube trip back to Marylebone, has always been quite pleasant
with just a moderate level of commuters. Yesterday evening was a different story, and I was crushed towards the back of the
double doors. All the commotion, was due to a small band of Spanish school children. Funny how the moment they disembarked the
train, some sort of normality was restored. Reaching the station concourse, in plenty of time to board my train home I was
concerned to find my train delayed. Luckily it was only for ten minutes and I was making the penultimate part of my journey
home at 5.55pm. How do you know you are late? When you get to the bus station to find that the evening bus service is running
and you have to catch the 315 heading to Lane End instead of the usual 326.
The faces of the 326 are now becoming very familiar.
Those faces, I know, will be changing every week,
as my shifts change and I become more an integral
part of the support team. The dream that was my cushy
hours of 8am to 4pm, may have been lost forever. Not
to worry, let us think through carefully. What is
the trade off? Instead of having to awake at the crack
of dawn, I leave home at a more reasonable time, have
to suffer a slight increase in the passengers on my
train into London. There is also the fact that Marylebone
underground station is closed until 9.30am, so I have
to walk across the road to Baker
Street. Packed like sardines, is the only way
to describe the level of commuter traffic at this
time of the day, but the stress inducing journey is
short lived for only two stops, before once again,
normal service is resumed. Next week will be the big
test. Depending on how I find my journey and also
how I cope with returning home, so late in the evening,
there is little getting in the way of me making the
most of the my work day. As I am reminded by Mr. V
every morning, this is one of the greatest capital's
in the world.
On Tuesday, there was a scruffy looking gentleman in his mid thirties. He work ragged dirty clothes, giving the appearance
he had been hard at work decorating earlier today. His mousy brown hair was short, almost a crew cut. Unpleasant. That was
the word that came to mind when I saw him, waiting outside, the 326 at the station. In his hand, a 50cl glass bottle of
brandy, half empty. Dare I use a dirty word, and describe this man as 'working class'? I shall, but his social standing is
not the purpose of this posting. Three stops before my house, completely at random and with no real reason, he turned to look
at the passengers sitting behind him on the train. His icy gaze was fixed on me, and our eyes met for a split second. He was
three seats ahead of me, but it felt as if he was much closer than the physical distance. He asked, in a coarse voice, "What
is it that YOU wear?". Somewhat bewildered, I was about to respond, "Haven't you seen a suit before?" While this instant
response was clicking over in my mind and before I had a chance to speak, he added, "..saris...". I corrected his poor
pronunciation. Then he continued his conversation with his friends, about the form of formal Asian dress. Turning his back to me, I drifted out of the
conversation and out of his consciousness. Had I ever really been in the conversation? On reflection, no but a strange way to
be spoken to and all in all, an unusual incident on a rather lacklustre bus journey.
Was hoping to go to see Spiderman 2 with another saturday night at the movies. It was not
to be. Therefore I am going on Monday night, which although not of my own choosing, means I do get to see the blockbuster as
close to the release in the UK as possible. I hope to give my humble opinion on the sequel, later next week.
God works in mysterious ways. Even my blog has noted some of the strange situations that have opened themselves up to me.
Boarding the Bakerloo line train at Embankment, taking a the available free seat. A young Asian man sat next to me, appearing
to be in his early twenties also. Reading a paper, he was given a letter by a friend sitting directly opposite. Although not
wanting to be nosey, I could not help but look and see at least what was the contents of this document. I signed and looked
up to the ceiling of the train. Why, had the powers that be, placed me on this train, at this time, to be sitting next to
this person, on this day? Not wanting to wallow on this subject for to long, but why was I not also to receive such good
news? For a split second, I jumped out of my body and was looking at my life, my achievements and ultimately where my life
was going. Had I become the person, I had always dreamed I would be? Maybe not. The dream has not died. For that man, may not
have achieved everything we had hoped, but look where he is now. Can you take that away from him? No, never. God help the
soul who tries.
Primarily, my role is to answer the phones, but this does not mean I am chained to my desk for the course of the working
day. Every so often, the opportunity arises, when I need to venture around the building, finding offices and computer
equipment to repair. On one such occasion, I was in the office of a corporate partner, sorting out his laptop. While I was
busy adjusting the settings on Windows 2000, a colleague walked in. They discussed at some length, a presentation they had
planned for next week. I can only just begin to describe the feeling of being in the presence of such great men. I think we
need to lose the stigma that all lawyers are money-driven scoundrels. Awe inspiring to hear some of the biggest and well
known corporations on the planet to be mentioned. Names such as Sony
Ericsson, Siemens and The Body Shop. Firms such as this and many others all have their legal dealings through the company I
am working for. I have to date, been extremely robust in protecting the name and exact location of my place of work. As
tempting as it is to mention them, and allow all my readers to know which of the City big law firms, they are, I am not. Not
going to be so weak and give in. There is no need. My blog has always been honest. I want it to record the moment, the music,
the emotion. Of course, the facts are important, but sometimes they can get in the way of what really matters.
Wednesday 14th July 2004
For some strange reason, I have had the urge to drink
original Lucozade
for the past few weeks. At a young age, the strange
bright orange liquid was always seen as some magic
potion. Maybe because I only ever remember my Dad
buying it to take for our grandmother, when she was
in hospital. I never regarded it as a everyday beverage,
like Coca
Cola. In the mid 90s, I realised after many years
of naive ignorance, that it was actually a soft drink.
From 1998, when Lucozade expanded their range to include
additional flavours, I was hooked on blackcurrant
and then orange. Orange, to this day has been my favourite.
Yesterday it was a case of 'back to the classics',
I purchased a can of the original stuff with my lunch
and enjoyed the taste once again, while watching the
casual parade of tourists walk by me. A year seven
trip of school children, arrived and with them each
a list of notes to be made. How I remember, those
days. That was over ten years ago, since I was ten,
turning eleven. Am I glad to be older (and wiser?)
Of course, but there is something so forgiving about
being that age and very much having the rest of your
life to live for. These children, around thirty in
all were making their way in between the groups of
tourists. A group of Americans on a guided walk, stopping
to admire the view of Sir Christopher Wren's greatest
achievement. It was only a matter of time for the
following scenario to unfold itself upon me. I was
finishing my lunch on Tuesday last week, eagerly looking
at my watch. My hour was almost up, and I wanted to
get a chance to check my personal mail accounts. A
lady of Mediterranean appearance, in her early thirties,
approached me, digital camera clasped in hand. All
she said was photograph and please. I understood.
I took some photos. Not very good ones in my humble
opinion, as only the bottom half of the cathedral
was visible in the background. I was thanked for my
time and I wished the tourist a good day. It was 12.43pm,
I headed back to the office.
As a child of the 1980s,
I am not a fan of any of the cultural icons from the
1970s.
That was very much the era of my parents and older
cousins. Very few of the shows appeal to me, apart
from a few my Dad watch. Repeats on Granada
Plus, which have in recent months, completed died
out. I did not see the re-make movie, released earlier
this year. Although I have mentioned of the leading
actors on this site before. Hopefully I will get the
chance to watch, Starsky
& Hutch very soon. Will it bring on an urge for
me to catch the television
series? I don't think so. It is not like car manufacturers
to miss out on any potential money making spin offs
when a new movie, video game or any other major entertainment
event comes around. Fiat
are no exception. Forget the Ford
Grand Torino and try on the Fiat Grand Puntino
on for size!
There was so much I wanted to write in this entry,
as I tried to make mental notes, on the train, tube,
bus and casual walks over the past few days. I really
need to keep a small note pad, to keep all this blog
bubbles recorded. Hopefully, in my next entry, at
the weekend a few of the missing pieces can be filled.
Meanwhile, I will continue to try and observe, think,
reflect and contemplate. It is getting late, and although
I have the leisure of starting two hours later than
usual at work tomorrow, the reality is, I still have
to be up by 6am. No rest for the wicked, as the saying
goes.
My sister has worked for hotels most of her adult
life. She started off at our local Forte Hotel. This
was soon taken over my Holiday
Inn. She then moved to Crowne
Plaza, with the opening of their new hotel in
Marlow. She has worked there for nearly two years,
working the unpleasantly early breakfast shift, from
5.30am until midday. She has come to serve many celebrities
in her time. (Mainly of the B-class variety) but this
week, she had the Portsmouth football team staying
for some pre-season team building before the big kick
off in August. On explaining with great enthusiasm,
who she had served coffee to Harry Redknapp and Jim
Smith, I asked her to get his autograph for me. Would
she deliver, or had the opportunity gone for ever?
Well just like Portsmouth
team that defied the odds and lived to fight another
day in the Premiership. My sister, with beaming smile
handed me a bill, as soon as I returned home from
work.
Saturday 10th July 2004
Been at working in my new job for three weeks now.
My role has not changed so much, as I am being given
a chance to help out with the help desk. Although
I am no stranger to technical support, it is strange,
when I am dealing with hundreds of members of staff.
My telephone manner, is my no means perfect, but I
do not mind talking to people on the phone. However,
a shudder of nervousness over came me, with the prospect
of answering calls and logging them on the help desk
software. Other highlights of the week include installation
of Blackberry
devices. As fantastic as wireless comms are, they
can be a pain to setup. Amazing technology, from the
Canadian company, Research
In Motion. We have covered this ground before,
but I am not a big tea drinker. I usually drink on
average two cups a day, usually to coincide with the
start and end of the working day. However, this week
I did not have my customary cup with my cereal in
the morning. On Tuesday, I strolled into the entrance
of the station, as my train pulled up. There was no
chance I would be able to run over to platform three,
within a minute. So I decided to get a cuppa. My mistake
was I went for the cheap option. Never again, will
I put myself through such torment. A regular coffee
was only 50 pence, and with a queue of customers eagerly
waiting, I had to rush. Disappointment is not the
word I would like to use. As I sipped my hot drink,
from a tacky polystyrene cup, walking down platform
two, to the subway entrance, I reacted. This was officially
the worse cup of tea I have ever drunk in my life.
I did not really wanted to finish the cup, but my
need to stay awake (for once) on the train journey
into work was the only true motivation. Would I ever
put myself through such torture again. No never. You
do not realise how important that cup is at the beginning
of your day. You are still very much sleepy, trying
to get some bearings, straining your eyes to focus
on that clock on the wall. I must confess that my
progress on reading has been extremely poor. I do,
always get my book out as soon as I embark the train
home or to work. Whether or not I am reading as we
pull into Marylebone or High Wycombe respectively
is another matter. I aim to read around ten pages
every journey with a daily target around of thirty
pages. Sometimes by the time, we get to Gerrards Cross
(only the second stop from my home station) I am struggling
to keep my eyes open and my head is slowly drifting
down into the book, to the bemusement of my fellow
passengers. On Friday, again there was a need to have
some tea to wake up my system. On this occasion I
waited until I crossed over to platform three. Java
the Hut is situated towards the exit of this platform
and this was the first time I was making any purchase
from this establishment. Once again, as I walked in
to the small coffee house, I looked at the menu. An
extensive array of choice, even for the tea. Was I
really in the need for a herbal tea? No, so I ordered
a regular tea. A great taste, which revived me as
I waited for my train. The usual train had been delayed
so I had to wait for 6.53am service. Just what the
doctor ordered. I was fully awake, when I boarded
the train, and read my Victorian novel, all the way
into Marylebone. Success at last, but at what cost.
£1, my dearest friend. That is the cost of such happiness
in the morning.
With work taking up so much of my time during the week, my weekends have become as valuable as gold dust. I must try and make the most of them, rather than collapse into my bed and drift of to sleep for several hours. Contemplating this, I have been wondering where and how to focus my energies. I am not the most sporty person in the world. Perhaps I need to join a gym again, but this time stick to it? Considering, if I am interesting person, or rather a unique person. I am not at all. I do not have many personal pursuits which make me different from the next person. This does cause me some disappointment and time is indeed slipping away. There is so much I want to do. I want to travel and see many parts of the world. I want to learn new sports and make new friends. Right now? I feel quite a substandard individual. I recall reading somewhere, that one's blog is suppose to exacerbate my self-proclaimed uniqueness to the world. Does my blog do this? No, not at all, because I feel I am not as unique as some may want to believe. Personally, I am drawing the conclusion that this is very much a transition period in my life. Of course there are many things I want to do, many things I want to achieve. The time just is not right. Things need to fall into place. When they do, I will know. Opportunities will open themselves and so with them shall my chances of success.
Was hoping to was my car this afternoon. The day started off, clear and fine, even if there was a slight chill in the air. This did not prepare us for what was to the turn, the heavens were to take. While driving on the M40, the short distance to Slough, what appeared to be a slight drizzle turned into torrential down pour. Visibility dropped, with all the water spray, and the cars across all four lanes, slowed down to meet the changing road conditions. No chance on cleaning my car today. Maybe tomorrow, will bring with it, much better weather.
Nearly two months have passed since I returned to
Wycombe. I have made little or no attempt to contact
some of my dearest friends. So far, I have met up
with a few and send SMS to a few more. Still no planned
meetings, which is a great shame. Particularly with
some of my friends whom I've known since school. I
do feel great guilt for not made more of an effort,
but I must remind myself that with the summer upon
us, and the school children imminently breaking up
for their holidays. Time is not on anyone's side at
this moment.
The music video for the forthcoming cinema release,
Thunderbirds
is getting plenty of airplay on all the music channels.
I know Busted are not exactly the most popular modern
band and the lyrics of the song for the movie
still leave very much to be desired. The rights to
the actual television series were purchased
by Carlton
and there are plans to screen them soon in the UK.
I hope they touch
down soon after the movie hits the cinema screens
this summer. I feel like a kid waiting for to go to
the cinema for the first time. In some ways, I do
wish I was ten years younger and anticipating this
big summer blockbuster, with all the merchandising
and other corporate tie-ins. There was a time, when
I too would been drawn in by such promotions. "Cause
now the boys are back in town, no strings to hold
them down, down."
Sunday 4th July 2004
This evening, I turn to the dreary subject of football and
with it England. I have finally decided to discuss
it, as the dust begins to settle, with the final taking
place this evening. What I love about international
tournaments, is how it turns everyone into football
fans. Even those, who have not even a passing interest
in the national sport. One clear case is my dear friend
Sippy. He is completely oblivious to everything football
and most things sporting. Expect for WWE wrestling,
(but is that more light entertainment?). Unexpectedly,
I received a text message from him, minutes into the
first game against France. He was out in his back
garden, for a family barbeque, while they watched
the game. Of all the people, I did not expect an SMS
from him at that moment in time. Rather still, noting
it was from him, I expected something more familiar,
such as, "Come online mate" or "What you up to matey?".
Instead, it had the mortal words, "Come on Eng-er-land!".
The tide had indeed turned, but I was more concerned
with how long would this interest last? I had little
time to ponder the quarter final against Portugal.
I was at work, had a busy day, very much more concerned
with the pending tube strike, the following week.
When it came down to the match, I felt deep in my
heart, that maybe, just maybe England could provide
us with that memorable moment. A player, come to life
for the big occasion and show some signs of pure genius.
When Owen, gave England the lead, with a defiant touch
of excellence of the outside of his right foot, to
lob Ricardo and send all England fans ecstatic. How
sweet did that moment feel? Would it last? I knew
that we were in for a game now, and something for
the neutral to savour. But then, what happened? Rather
than go and kill Portugal off, with a second or even
third goal, the play became stagnated. Then twenty
six minutes into the game, our star sensation, went
off injured. The game changed. Hope faded. Well maybe,
just in my head. My heart was telling me, to wake
up. England were still one nil up, holding onto the
game. For the time being. As the game drew on, I felt
that England could just do this. Hope turned to joy,
when Figo was substituted. Could England really hold
on? But it was short lived, with Postiga's equalizer.
England had opted to play more defensively and hold
on to the lead, perhaps breaking on the counter, to
nick a goal. I feel in qualifying games, this is an
ideal game plan, but in the knock out stages of a
major tournament? Who knows the full reasons for the
game to turn in a split second. Then a moment, that
we had all witness, six years ago. Sol Campbell, rose
highest to meet the ball for a header. The ball was
in the back of the net. Pure elation for all England
fans! We were through. Then we look to the referee,
Urs Meier. He had disallowed it. Incorrectly and robbed
us of the victory. With extra time beckoning, the
thought and failure of penalties came into my mind.
Please, boys, spare us from the inevitable drama,
such conclusions to a match bring. Win the game, in
extra time, if need be. Please not, those spot kicks
again. I heart sank the moment Portugal scored to
take the lead late into the second period of extra
time. Could England respond? Could we drag ourselves
back into the game, after spending some 80 minutes,
defending a lead. Prospects looked bleak, until a
late corner, taken by Beckham, swung in near post,
for Lampard to control, turn and shoot. YEAH! England
had equalized. We were back in the game. Sheer joy
flooded my body all over, and a strange sense of warmth
overcame me mentally. Would this really be our year?
Could all those years of hurt come to end? It was
not to be. When the penalty shoot out commenced, I
was unsure with only a few of the England takers.
Those who eventually missed, were clear favourites
to net a tick on the England score card. Why does
this
always happen to us? Maybe because penalty kicks can
never been practiced. Think about it.
Can you believe it is July? Where has the time gone?
Been quite busy this weekend, went over to the Henley Regatta yesterday evening, for the fireworks. Then today was spent at a friend's wedding in Elstree, Hertfordshire. Hope to upload some images soon. Wish I had time to write more on these subjects, but the time is taking over me. I need to start preparing for the working week, and winding down my weekend.
It hurts when you look at me that way
It scares me to hear the things you say
'Cause god only knows what i would do
If i had to live life without you
I see the sadness in your eyes
And i know i should have spent more time
'Cause god only knows I'd be a fool
Yes i would
To think that there's someone else but you
Friday 2nd July 2004
Friday, a great day of the week. It has been my favourite
day, since first school. Now it usually takes two
turns. I can either feel high. Full of bags of energy
and have a great urgency to do everything. Or the
flip side, worse still, I am heavily tired and exhausted
from the working week and seek nothing but sleep.
I come in, undress and usually lounge about watching
TV. Before long, I am fast asleep on the sofa. Not
the best way to spend a Friday night. Then again,
neither is first option. A careful balance between
the two would be ideal, but I know will never really
materialize.
Quite a busy weekend planned, so most likely will
not be able to blog again until late Sunday evening.
There is so much I want to write and discuss, I have
made notes on a few sheets of paper, just so I do
not forget to include various events which occurred
during the previous week. Do you like the slight changes
to the comments dialog box?
Thursday 1st July 2004
Eight days into my new job, and disaster did really
strike.
I had a few options. Bite the bullet and drive in.
Consider paying over the odds for a taxi from Marylebone
station to the office? Or risk a crowded bus? On the
train home, on Tuesday evening, I overheard someone
saying that they were driving back into London, later
that evening and booking into a hotel for the night.
This seemed at first glance, a great idea, until you
think about the car. You have to check out by 11am
and then where can you park your car for some 6 hours?
Exactly. Having consider all the options, I took the
advice from Transport
for London. Walk. On the tube map, and even in
the A
to Z, the distance appeared to be exhausting.
Estimating, that the few miles could be covered in
around thirty minutes, I checked my train timetable.
To be within a realistic chance of getting to work
on time, I would need to catch the 06.03 service from
High Wycombe. Not a problem. Thankfully, a lift from
my sister made the journey possible. I usually catch
the first 326 service into town, on a weekday, so
a lift was the only option. It is strange how different
the streets of London are, when comparing them with
a map. At times, I felt I was heading in the wrong
direction, using my rather modest sense of direction
to guide me to the office. From Marylebone station,
it was across to Baker Street and walking down to
Oxford Street. London, in the early hours is a world
apart from how I recall the city. The deserted pavements,
with the occasional commuter, also letting the feet
take the strain. The rest were packed like sardines
into buses, with major queues forming, at every stop.
Delivery vans, were unloading to some of the biggest
high street names, making the best of the light morning
traffic. All those super brand stores, including some
of the most famous stores in the world. I suppose,
if I was a coffee lover, I would be in heaven in this
part of town. Starbucks
for as far as the eye can see, and almost around every
corner. Those who have seen Shrek
2, will know what I mean, on this point. Arriving
at a similar time at the office, as I would have done,
if I had made the twenty minute tube journey. Which
do I prefer, well I will let you be the judge of that!
My role at work is becoming more hands on. Given
more responsibility. We all know, that with great
power comes great
responsibility. Nerve racking when you have to
start working on your own, but it is not too bad and
the jobs that need to be undertaken are quite simply.
Just got to remember how to cope with those every
occurring sticky situations. Enjoyment is important
in the work place and I am enjoying my work. The work
day is just right, even though I start at 8am and
finish at 4pm. Which to many people sounds highly
tantalizing, the fact that there are over two hours
of traveling to add onto the front and end of those
allotted hours. Twelve hours away from the house,
seems somewhat disheartening, as you are only working
for eight of those. Oh well, this is life.
So, we come to my journey home. I decided to head
back in the same direction. Walking, perhaps at this
time of day, was ill advised. The hustle and bustle
of Oxford Street on a weekday afternoon. How can I
describe it? Hundreds of tourists, visitors and shoppers,
wandering the pavements with a sense of ease and disengagement.
While within their mists you have a hundred more,
commuters trying to get somewhere. I was with them,
that wet afternoon. I hit rapid pace, once I got onto
Oxford Street. The crowds were too much, with the
queues for buses, made up of hoards of people, stretched
across the right of way, for all pedestrians. Every
now and gain, I would switch up a gear from a swift
walk, to a jog, to a quick run. I am not fit. I know
I desperately need to get fit. My body was never designed
for more than a gentle stroll, and a short one for
that matter. However, knowing that time was pressing
upon me, like the rain, now softly coming down across
my face, I had to take some action. As I turned right
onto Baker Street, with the rain coming down, much
harder now. I knew this was it. I jogged at some pace
up to the tube station. The traffic was beginning
to get heavy now, the rush hour would be soon upon
us. Why is it referred to as an hour, when it lasts
much more longer than that. Never mind, I did not
have time for such trivial questions. The station
was about ten minutes away, ten minutes which I did
not have to spare. So, in an attempt to make sure
I got to the station in good time, I had no choice.
I needed to run. Run as fast as I could. I hit the
turbo
boost and not a moment too soon. I was lucky with
the road traffic too, able to rush across the streets
with no black cabs heading for me. I accelerated past
a older gentleman, who had be running for at least
half an hour. He appeared in much shaper than me,
even taking into account his age. I sped past him
and rushed to the station and did not stop until I
reached the ticket barrier. As I entered the platform,
I noted the time on the platform clock. 16:59 All
my running, swift walking, dodging of other pedestrians
had paid off. I had made it to the station in time
for my train. Why, oh why had the walk taken over
thirty minutes longer, ten hours later in the day?
I boarded my bus home at 17:57, again noting the time
on the bay clock. As the 326 pulled out of Newlands
Bus Station, the sun was shining. After a day of rain,
wind and tall orders, I felt some satisfaction. For
whatever the reasons, others had decided to make sure
my day would be awful. You too are entitled to your
view
on this industrial dispute and subsequent action.
Did they succeed? Of course not. I forgot to mention,
one last option that was always open to me. To stay
in bed.
Sunday 27th June 2004
Following six months and three days without going
to the pictures, I decided to put things right. Went
to see, Shrek
2 last night at the fabulous O2
Centre on Finchley
Road. On my daily journey to work, I see the leisure
centre, from my train. As you know, my favourite brand
of cinema is Warner Village, recently re-branded as
Vue.
I had not seen the first movie in full, just patches
of the ending on Sky.
This was not a major problem, because the movie standards
up very well on it's own. Overall, it was an entertaining
way to spend a few hours on a Saturday evening and
there are very clever touches and jokes which are
aimed specifically at the adults in the audience.
I have now seen quite a few computer animated features,
but my favourite still remains, Toy
Story 2. It has the most amazing and ingenious
opening and I love the hero, he is something else.
Talking of films, there are plenty of films I want
to go and see this summer. Saw the trailers for Spiderman
2 and also Thunderbirds.
Another is the classic Around The World in 80 Days. To those of you you remember the animated cartoon from the late 80s, which featured all the characters as animals. Fogg was a lion, if I recall correctly. This should be a real treat, particularly as it stars Jackie Chan.
While I was at middle school, every Friday afternoon I would head over to my
friend Andrew's house. He was one of my best friends
at school and we knew each other for a good ten years.
When got to his house, we would rush through our Maths
and English homework. Then at 6pm it was time for
tea. Then we would go into his living room, switch
on the television and settle down. It was time for
Thunderbirds. This was by far my favourite of all
of Gerry Anderson's creations, although Captain Scarlet
did have some great things going for it. For a series
created in the 60s and with a case of puppets, it
stood up very well, some thirty years later on some
impressionable eleven year old boys. Yes, we had computers
then and some basic games consoles (16 bit anybody?)
but the drama of the show, just captured our imagination
in a way no other form of entertainment could. It
was at this moment in time that all of Anderson's
classic shows were making a comeback, for a new generation
of children to enjoy. The culmination of this was
when Anther
Turner created a replica of Tracey Island. The
toy, become the most popular of 1992, and sold out,
so many children (and parents) decided to build their
own, with the help of Blue
Peter.
I have a confession to make. I have not been able to pick up a copy of the Metro at all last week. I see many people reading it in the mornings, but never get the chance to pick up a copy for myself. Even some of my colleagues read it in the office, but still I have not been able to read it.
Friday 25th June 2004
Friday, and the end of my official week at work.
How has it been? Well it has been very different from
what I expected, I give you that. During the course
of the week, the commuting was physically causing
me some issues, but at this moment in time, I feel
great. Maybe it is just that Friday feeling? Compared
to my journey during my placement year, this is a
walk in the park and includes 0.04% of the stress.
Of course, there is fact that other people how the
destiny of whether I get to work on time. Rather than
me being more in control, behind the wheel of my car.
But there are many benefits. No high fuel bills, no
issues with parking. It is literally a case of jumping
on the bus and then train and getting into work. My
hours are also much more convenient, which means I
miss the major rush in the morning and early evening.
The only real problem I have had this week, is having
to lug my briefcase around, particularly on the tube.
I am going to get something smaller and more suitable
for my journey this weekend. (Damn, I'm really starting
to sound like a woman on here!) After all, I only
carry a book and some notes. Does this really justify
me carrying the thing all the way to the City and
back every day?
My Dad drove over to Germany in 1996 on a business
trip. He was driving the company Ford Sierra at the
time. On this drive over to the continent, he found
a collection of cassette tapes (remember them?) in
the car. He listened to one, to it's death on the
journey. The album, was a collection of old school,
RnB tracks, featuring such artists as Incognito and
R. Kelly. My favourite track on this album, was by
an early 90s female trio, with amazing soulful voices.
It is a shame they did not gain as much popularity
here, as they did in their native America. Accomplished
song writers in their own right, as clearly demonstrated
on Bet's
Listening Party. Well you will be glad to know
that Javine, one of the losers from ITV's Popstars
- The Rivals, has covered the track. I saw the video
for the first time this evening on MTV
Hits. My first impression is that she has decided
to add her own unique style to the proceedings, but
I am no sure if she has captured the inner beauty
of the original (if that is at all possible). We shall
see, but not sure what the gang over at PopJustice
will make of it. Luckily, Kiss and Smash Hits have
both added the classic, Jade track to their play lists!
;)
If I let you come inside, tomorrow will you hide
Will you be there for me, when I need someone to hold
Baby don't misunderstand, I do want you for my man
I just need a little time, before I invest you my love
Don't walk away boy, my love won't hurt you
Don't walk away boy, I'll be right there for you
Thursday 24th June 2004
Something that I have missed from my previous two
entries. I have started reading again. After an absence
of some four years, which has meant the last time
I picked up a book was during my last A Level English
Literature exam. Shameful, I admit. On Monday, I decided
against reading a book. I wanted to concentrate on
my journey and getting to work at a reasonable time.
On Tuesday morning, in a frantic rush, I went into
my sisters' bedroom. There were books on the shelves
and on the dressing table. Most of these were, what
I would describe as pop culture books. Popular, easy
to dip into modern literature. However, I was seeking
something a bit more substantial, a story with some
depth an overall experience. As I waded through a
pile, I found Crime
and Punishment. (It was voted into 60th
place by viewers of the BBC
Big Read.) Written in the Victorian era, by Russian
author Fyodor
Dostoevsky, the book appealed to me, for the struggle
that the main character must face. Something I quickly
picked up from reading the blurb on the back cover.
It was duely placed into my briefcase and I begin
reading the moment I stepped upon my train to London.
So far, it has been an engaging read, very well structured,
if with a rapid pace of events. I will keep you posted
with my progress.
Wednesday it rained quite heavily in London and the
weather did not improve during the course of the day.
Overall it was a day, which felt more like September
than mid June. But overall, a satisfying day, for
I feel I earned my money. The morning started with
very much, 'more of the same'. Imaging and re-imaging
PCs in the workshop. Then in the afternoon, it was
a case of heading over to the 8th floor, which I discovered
was deserted. A clear up operation ensued, with monitors,
printers and any other hardware being moved into a
central location. One of the largest offices. Then,
the tough job of clearing up power cables and CAT5e
cables from desks, floors and behind walls. Not the
sort of manual labour you want to carry out, while
wearing a brand new suit. Oh, well, it had to be done.
:) Although, it was overcast, the view from the 8th
floor was impressive. From the back off the building
you could clearly see the London
Eye and part of the Palace of Westminister. Also
a great spot from which to capture Saint Paul's Cathedral.
Later on in the summer, I will take my digital camera
into work and take some photos. This should give a
blunt clue to my location in the City.
You may note that I receive some comments with regards
to the Gillette Mach 3 advertising. Well a man on
the inside, has e-mailed me explaining in detail his
opinion and those of much higher standing in the industry.
They all feel that the 'copy' (words of commercial)
do not fit the concept of a razor. Since when did
you have an angel by your side as you cut yourself,
in a daze at 5.23am. Great to be able to get the view
from across the pond.
So, now to today. Thursday. I got up late, 5.20am
(yes that is late, I should be up by 5am!). Even though
at 4:43am, my body clock wakes me up automatically.
Strange how your body and mind is able to adjust to
a new routine, so quickly. The bus I catch, takes
me into the bus station. However, I filled in a questionnaire,
from Buckinghamshire
County Council, which was conducted to get an
indication of the popularity of a direct service to
the station from the suburbs. The trains are quite
frequent, the 6.39am service stops at all stations
to Marylebone. I had caught it on Tuesday and Wednesday.
However, as I entered the station, I saw it waiting
on platform 3. Everyone appeared to have boarded the
train already. Damn! No choice, I had to make a dash
for it, down the subway, underneath the rail lines.
Just before I got to the other side of this underground
passage, I heard the turbo diesel engines, roar into
life. Then slowly, felt the train above my head moving
away from the station. My running came to an abrupt
stop. I panicked, again. Wondering what time I would
get into work now. 8:30am, perhaps? When was the next
train? I checked the electronic screens. I had 13
minutes to wait. So I took a seat, still thinking
of how I would go about explaining my poor time keeping
to my manager, on my fourth day! :S Then, I noticed
that the train to Marylebone, only stopped at Beaconsfield
and Gerrards Cross. Fantastic. I should be able to
make up the lost time and perhaps even beat the earlier
train into London. The week was catching up with me.
Well, my body at least. Reading would have been a
waste, because my brain, was just not ready to take
in, anything really. I drifted off to sleep, with
my head lent against the window. I awoke, from my
sleep to discover that we were just heading into the
station. Rubbing my eyes, I looked at my watch. 7.28am.
Fantastic. I would be able to use Marylebone tube
station before it closes for the morning. I am beginning
to learn, that for Teg, there is never just the option
of one last chance saloon. ;)
Can you believe that it is only 6 months until Christmas Eve? Where has the time gone?
Wondering what track I would associate with my first
week at work? Well, in the IT workshop, the radio
is exclusively tuned into Capital
FM. A song I have grown to love and keep humming
along to on my travels on the train. along to is "This
Love" by Maroon 5.
Tuesday 22nd June 2004
Two days into my new job and new routine. I have
to admit, even as invincible as I am to the daily
commute, I am slightly tired. Firstly, let me guide
you through my first official day. London and the
bright lights of the City. It was hectic, that I had
expected. But there were some comforting surprises
and other delights :) . However, let us begin, very
much at the beginning.
I woke up, just before 6am and knew I had to be at
my bus stop by 7.20am. This particular stop, is conveniently
placed to the rear of my house and our housing state.
With the proximity of the Asda superstore, the 329
Arriva
bus service runs every 15 minutes. My breakfast was
light cereal, I had wanted some Kellogg's
Crunchy Nut Cornflakes had to make do with Weetabix
Weetos.
Never mind. I arrived at the bus stop, and within
a minute, the bus arrived. So far, everything was
going like clockwork. There was only one other person
on the bus, but slowly it filled up with other early
birds, making their journey to work. A blonde guy,
aged around 17, was playing his music loud. By definition
I mean, the sound of his music was clearly audible
over the sound of the aging diesel engine of the bus.
He listened to No Doubt and some other trance music.
This did not bother me in the slightest, but I noticed
other passengers, being concerned and some showing
their disgust by their facial expressions. Newlands
Bus Station was the destination and just before 8am,
the first leg of my journey was complete. Now, the
casual stroll across a deserted High Wycombe town
centre, across to the train station. I had planned
to catch the earlier train, but got through the gates
to see the 8.07am train waiting at platform one. The
start time I had been given was 9.30am, so my journey
planning allowed for any delays, either with the bus,
train or tube. This service by Chiltern
Railways is one of the fastest to London, with
only a few stops before terminating at Marylebone.
At Wycombe, there was only a trickle of commuters,
but at the stops of Beaconsfield and Gerrards Cross
(which generally are next down the line) the train
filled up. I sat opposite a old gentleman. He sat
down with Daily
Mail in hand, and clutched an attaché case.
To be surprise, he opened it, to reveal a modern Sony
Walkman. The new shape, which are almost completely
circular. As the train moved out of the station and
onward, he rushed to get plugged into his music. Unlike
the passenger on the bus earlier, he had the courtesy
to play his music at a discreet level. Therefore,
I was unable to decipher what he was listening to.
My original guess, was classical. His next move, was
to begin the crossword. Franticly jotting down possible
words on the borders of his paper. So this continued,
until the crossword was complete. Then, it was a case
of digesting the morning news. Other passengers I
observed? Well a old lady came and sat down next to
be at our next stop. She was at least in her mid fifties.
She too carried a case of some description. As the
train rattled towards the capital, she got out two
booklets. On closer examination, I discovered they
were prospectuses. But not just any old prospectuses.
No sir. They were for Oxford
and Cambridge.
The institutions which produce the great minds of
our society and recognised across the world as the
locations of academic excellence. Perhaps she was
considering heading back into education and wanting
to gain some self satisfaction from the achievement.
The train arrived into London Marylebone on time.
Most of the other commuters were in a hurry, making
a mad dash for the exits off the platform. I had time
to spare, but still wanting to get to my destination
with time to spare, rather than making up the final
leg in a mad rush. Little did I know, of the unexpected
event that lay before me.
With the works to the escalators at Marylebone
tube station (as mentioned on my Friday entry) I scrolled
over to Baker
Street. From here, it was a case of jumping on
the southbound Bakerloo line, heading to Embankment.
Overall, the tube was busy, cramped, hectic and hot.
I was almost there, I looked at my watch, as I strode
the escalators up to the northbound district and circle
line platform. It was 8.59am, I had plenty of time.
Then, as I reached the top of the stairs, I noticed
a large hoard of people, standing aimlessly and confused.
Then, I saw the empty tube train. What was going on?
The voice over the PA, confirmed my worst fears. A
suspect package at Blackfriars
I panicked. What should I do? Risk paying over the
odds for a taxi? Try to catch an alternative tube
to reach a station nearby. My initial instinct was
to go for the first option, so I headed out of the
station. Coming across a tube map, I began to ponder
the options and then realised that station I had used
on Friday. At pace, I swiftly changed direction and
headed back into the station and for the Northern
Line platform. The situation was causing me great
bother, mainly the pressure of time, which was increasing
by the second. I did not want to be be late. Then
again, I did not want to arrive exceptionally late,
so 10am. But did I make the best logistic decision?
God knows. I retraced my steps from my walk on Friday
morning. I made it into the office at 9.45am, to discover
the receptionist on the phone, to the HR officer,
requesting my name badge to be printed. Just in time.
This adds a completely new dimension to the phrase.
My first day was filled with interesting observations.
Firstly, I was surprised by the general relaxed nature
around the office. IT Support can be very hectic at
times, particularly when it is all hands on deck for
some major fire fighting. My assumption was that a
big international law firm would be slightly more
tuned in, when dealing with major conglomerates around
the world. To the contrary, all departments I have
visited so far, do not seem to have any sense of real
urgency. People are quietly busy, getting on with
their allotted task. Maybe this is just their way.
I am now a small clog, in that very big machine. :)
My working day, finished at 5.30pm. I headed back
to Marylebone to catch the train home. I will not
bore you with the details, the journey was quiet,
without incident. A couple, from Birmingham had just
been to the opening day of Wimbledon.
They had a portable television, remember those? Trying
desperately to watch the final few sets of the tennis,
before switching over for the big match. It was when
I got into Wycombe, and the bus station when things
started to get interesting. The bus I catch is the
326. It has two rounds and circles two separates areas
of the town. As it pulled into the station, I boarded,
thinking it was making the second journey, towards
the south. I was sadly mistaken. The signs were apparent,
as soon as we headed out of the station. Instead of
the taking the customary turning off the main roundabout,
the driver headed east. My heart sang. Would I get
home in time for the big match? The second half, looked
like a distant prospect. The driver was a jolly West
Indian gentleman. When we arrived deep into Micklefield,
the point at which the bus terminates, he turned to
me and said, "Where to sir?" I explained my proposed
destination. He responded, with a slight snigger,
"you got da rong circuit. The 315 is what you be wanting.
If you lucky, you get the next one leaving the station".
I just nodded in acknowledgement, feeling embarrassed
at my mistake. The bus service, 315 the driver referred
to was the weekend and evening service. I recalled
that it made a cross country journey through High
Wycombe town centre, starting off high at the top
of the valley, in Flackwell Heath and then across
to the quiet suburb of Lane End. So I was ending back
into Wycombe, hoping to catch the 'correct' bus this
time around. Just around the corner from the station,
the bus made an unexpected stop in the middle of the
road. The bus driver, opened his slide window and
called out to his colleague. The driver of the 315.
"I got wan for ya...!" Instantly the driver responded
and pulled his bus to the side of the road. I rushed
from my seat, dazed by the events occurring. I jumped
off the bus and thanked the jovial driver for all
his help. He had been a star. Running as fast as I
could, with a brief case in my left hand, I crossed
the road and boarded the bus. Job done.
I arrived home, with the sun setting behind the neighbouring
estate, streaks of sunshine gleaming behind the long
trees. A picturesque scene, which needed to be captured.
I looked at my watch. It was 7.57pm. I had been out
of the house thirteen hours. As I rang the doorbell,
the clock struck 8pm. As events became apparent, England
were heading out of the European
Championships. Luckily, someone decided to come
out of his premature retirement from scoring international
goals. Then, a special young boy
thought he would let the world know of his talent.
:) Bring on the hosts!
As if you have not got tired of reading this entry
already, I still have a few other after thoughts to
add. Hopefully, we be able to update later in the
week. I hope to add some more images, so you can get
the sense of my general day. So feel free to leave
your comments and messages for me. I will try my best
to get in touch with you all.
Sunday 20th June 2004
Smooth. That is how I would describe several people
I know. But predominately I have noticed something.
That the smoothest people I know, are black. There
is just something special, unique or sophisticated,
in the way they pull this off. A friend for example,
would put on his shades, plugging his iPod and head
of to Uni. Nothing particularly interesting in that.
Well sure, but the way in which he strolls over to
Uni, is just amazing. It is as if he does not have
a care in the world and is very much away, the music
taking him to some distant shore. There are very few
white men that can carry off such a move. There are
of course, exceptions to this rule and David Beckham
is one such person. My case in point is, the new television
commercials, featuring him. If you have missed them
so far, view
them, you will not be disappointed. The moment
you need to watch out for his Mr. B coming down some
stairs in a nice black suit and smiling. (SMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTH)
That is the only word that comes to mind to describe
the moment.
Question for the ladies. Is it okay to appreciate
the finer parts of man's appearance. David Beckham.
I have noticed throughout my life, girls always describe
other girls as 'pretty'. Why is this so? Us guys are
never so general with our comments. But then perhaps it is our directness that gets us into so much trouble! :S
As if you needed reminding, it is Father's Day today.
And, how can I sum up the day? Well I can do so, with
a few special words, bought to you by our sponsor.
You know the feeling
Every guy's had it
Your unbeatable
Unstoppable
You've got that walking on water feeling
You look - they smile
You win - they go home
It's the feeling you get every day
With the closest shave
Mach 3 Turbo
Every move is smooth
Every word is cool
I never want to lose that feeling...
Saturday 19th June 2004
Went out to Milton
Keynes this morning, with a old work colleague
from my placement year. We went there from his house,
so I got to experience the Golf
experience. As you may well be aware, I am not a big
fan of the marquee, because I think it is highly overrated.
But then again, you can't beat German engineering,
particularly if you tend to go for the top end of
the range. The R32 or the V6 Motion. Having purchased
the later, but decided upon the mark IV model, I knew
the right choice had been made. A plush leather interior
and the humming sound of an engine, that could turn
at the slight pressure on the pedal, to the roar of
a lion. Then, you are pushed back into your seat as
the 2.8l V6 producing 200 bhp comes into life. A truly
breathtaking car, with earth shattering performance.
Would I buy one? To be honest, no. Why? A car should
reflect more than just your personality. If it needs
to make a statement of who you are, it also needs
tell people, where you've been. Sorry, but for me,
it never will be GTI Forever. No matter what the hype.
Following my visit to London, yesterday, some further after thoughts. When
heading towards the Northern Line platform at London
Bridge, I was approached. Well, stopped really,
but an old black gentleman, quite smartly dressed.
He shook my hand, with the words, "Aslam a lakem".
Now, do I really look like a Muslim? I think not,
but obviously to this guy I was. Anyway, I thought
he wanted some directions and was about to get my
tube map out, when he suddenly asked for some money.
This took me slightly by surprise. Particularly when
he was well dressed and in the mould of Patrick Truman.
Well I made my excuses and disappeared onto my platform.
All I can say is that I think it is easy to tell if
a girl is Muslim, than if a guy is Muslim. Do you
agree? Leave your thoughts, if you may.
The third series of Bo
Selecta! started last night. Overall, the program
was fantastic but I was disappointed that my favourite
character got such a small slice of the action. Michael
Jackson has a great following. It has only been recently
that I have been able to comprehend why this is so.
He is portrayed on the show, with a comic touch of
Eddie
Murphy and the vocal talent of Don King. To note
this in true reflection, you need to watch Don
King: Only in America. This TV movie from 1997,
has Ving
Rhames in the title role and he captures the essence
of the boxing promoter in excellent form. To appreciate
this fully, go back and watch some of the MJ sketches
from series one and two. Everything falls into place
and you realise that Michael Jackson, is truly a King.
The format of the show has changed, also and I am
not sure how well this works. Is Avid Merrion, essential
a talk show host? He was much better as the obsessive
celebrity stalker. Time will tell, but I just hope
that this is not the beginning of the end of such
a fantastic comical concept.
Will try and blog tomorrow, but I feel I may not get the chance. Will be busy with Father's Day and then preparing myself for my first big day at work. Excited. Anxious.
Friday 18th June 2004
Preparation is important with everything in your
life. Always "Do you homework!" That is something,
that rings in my ears regularly. So this morning,
I set off on my daily commute, as if I was going to
work. This dummy run, was purely to check the timing
of the bus, train and then tube services to my new
place of work. Also to plan for any possible disruption
and have a backup plan. Overall, the journey went
to plan. I picked up the bus at 7.30am, outside my
house and then caught the 8.07am Chiltern
Railways service to London Marylebone. Then, I
find that the Marylebone
tube station is closed from 7.30 until 9.35am on weekdays
for work on the escalators. Never mind, Baker
Street is literally a stones throw away. I think
it was at this point, I lost some valuable travel
time. In London a few minutes can make a difference.
Anyhow, not a major problem. From here, I took the
Bakerloo line all the way to Embankment.
It is here, I transfer across to the Circle or District
platform. Two stops down the line is my exit, Blackfriars.
I walked past the office at 9.33am, a few minutes
behind schedule, to see a familiar face behind the
reception desk. I noticed a few people enter. Then
my mind was racing. How many of my potential future
colleagues, had I perhaps seen on my tube journey?
Had we made eye contact, perhaps stood next to each
other, completely unaware of the connections that
would be made next week.
Having completely my covert surveillance operation
with some success, I decided to stick around in the
neighbourhood. Having bought along my digital camera,
to take some photos, I headed towards St. Paul's Cathedral.
Literally around the corner, I noticed a hoard of
tourists patiently waiting to be taken on their guided
tour. Obviously I do not want to give away the exact
location of my work place, but those of you, whom
know London well, should be able to make an educated
guess. Deciding to avoid the hassle of the foreign
visitors to our capital
I searched for some good vantage points to take some
photos. There were a few, but as I headed around the
corner, I saw the Millennium
Bridge. Great, a fantastic spot to take some photos
of the City Skyline and also images of the river and
surrounding area. I took some 30 images in total,
but below is in my opinion the best. On my trails
around the web, I have discovered, Andrew's
Photolog, a unique collection of candid shots
taken across the city. The penny drops as I realise
the potency of a black and white image.
At this point, I suddenly had an urge to visit Starbucks.
I am not a coffee drinker and actually personally
detest the drink. (How can people drink that first
thing in the morning?) Anyway, I still wanted to head
over there. So I decided upon the branch in Leicester
Square. I felt rather silly at one point, ordering
a standard English breakfast tea, with a menu showing
the delights of the coffee bean from all corners of
the earth and available in every imaginable variety.
This was only my second visit to a Starbucks. Having
visited the Leicester outlet in June 2001. I enjoyed
my medium sized tea, and double chocolate muffin.
Then headed off back into Leicester Square, wondering
what to do next.
I decided to head north, and visit Brent Cross Shopping Centre, with a friend. First time here, but no comparison to the impressive BullRing Birmingham. Then caught a bus to Harrow, some twenty minutes away. Had lunch at in the patriotically named, St. George's Shopping Centre. Then decided, it was time to head back home.
What do you do when you see an old friend? I saw
an old school friend this afternoon, as I was heading
back home. He did not see me, as he was too busy chatting
to his friends, but I saw him. It cross my mind, to
at least say hello, but I did not know what reaction
this may provoke. Also, what would we say, beyond,
the formal how are you? I therefore made the decision
to just walk on by. If it had been someone else, I
may have gathered the courage to at least say hi.
But this was an exception to the rule. We parted on
bad terms and I feel he may still bear some grudge,
even though it was over two years ago now. What surprised
me, was the fact that he was still kicking around
in Wycombe. A town he hated to the core, and boiled
up several plans of escape. All which had ended in
failure, with his subsequent return back to his hometown.
I hope he is doing well. I hope one day, he can learn
to forgive me. For, for whatever harm I may have done.
Wednesday 16th June 2004
I start work on Monday. Although, somewhat nervous,
apprehensive and generally daunted by the prospect
of this new position in the City, I am trying to build
up some confidence. I have been crawling around various
websites, reading up the all important advice to make
sure my first day goes swimmingly. It was during this
search, that I came across this humorous site. Unless
you have have never worked in your life so far, you
will have come across the concept of Office
Politics. Described by some as the underworld
of work, this is indeed the campaign of murmurings
from the tea lady to the company director that can
bring with it, both promotion, demotion and the P45.
All on the basis of what is said, to whom and when.
This site, is hilarious. I was on the floor, when
I read the Induction entry from the HR
Horrors sections. So please read some of this
website, because you will discover that sometimes
the truth hurts and sometimes it is plainly hysterical.
Every aspect of working life is covering from appraisals
to company cars to technology. Just make sure you
visit in your lunch hour, and not when the boss is
pressing you for that report, you were supposed to
submit last week. Then again, you might want some
practical advice on surviving, office politics in
the workplace.
Plenty there, to make sure you moving in the right
direction. Have I made the right decision? Well, I
should be able to answer that with some confidence,
next week. Give me time.
I bought the England
home shirt today. My previous English shirts have
included, the European Championships home shirt from
1996 and 2000. Then the home shirt for France 98.
I particularly like this new shirt, because it is
reversible and was quite good value for money. Shall
be wearing with pride tomorrow afternoon! Will England,
do the business against the unpredictable Swiss? Of
course, have the Arsenal away shirt from last season
and the home shirt from the 2001 season.
Not much else to report at the moment, I'm afraid.
Although, I have updated the Audio page for the first time in over two months. I have come across some
interesting blogs, via
which uses the London Underground tube network, as
away of categorizing all the capital blogs. There
have been some unique and creative blogs, but nothing
jumping out at me, to warrant inclusion on my blog
roll. Having said that, I still need to spend more
time going through the site. So far, I have only concentrate
on tube stations I have used in the past week or so.
If you come across any blogs that you suggest I take
a peek at, I will be more than happy to do so. Just
drop me an e-mail please.
Monday 14th June 2004
Why do we do it? Why do the English national squad always press the self-destruct button? Why, in the last dying moments of the opening group game of an international tournament do we lose that all important concentration and fall flat on our faces? All that when you are in a commanding position for 90 minutes, defending a one nil lead, playing some good football to contain the deadly French strikers.
A draw, which I felt that game was deserving of, would have been at least partially acceptable. But to throw away your lead, in such a manner, and then one lapse in concentration, to be followed by a cynical back pass, which players like Henry, live for.
How do I feel, at 4 minutes passed 10 (last night)? Well totally dejected, frustrated and empty.
"It could have been all songs in the street, it was nearly complete, it was nearly so sweet".
I think as an England fan, you have to realise that there are far more, what could have been scenarios than there are moments of sheer joy. France did not win the game, the English lost in. In more ways than one.
Under normal circumstances, I would trailing around various news sites to get
the full post-match analysis on the England game.
But today, I am going to do something slightly different.
To get the view from the fan, I am searching for a
blog entry from an depressed England fan. So far found,
Diary
of an England fan. Just a shame it has not been
updated with recent events. If you find any blogs
that discuss the English
defeat, please let me know.
During the half time ad break during the England game, did you notice an rather below the belt act by ITV? They showed a mock up of the BBC Euro2004 trails, with Larson of Sweden. Then, for the voice over to say, "We don't want no artists of football, you PLANK! We just want to watch the football!" Then show the details for their up and coming matches, this evening.
I never thought that ITV would steep so low. The BBC trails are much more classy, including the intro sequence for their European Championship coverage. Particularly, when you compare the production values and overall end product. BBC wins hands down for a much more polished finished article.
Talking of commercials. I like television commercials that make you think. I remember when I first saw the Honda Accord ad. It was a special moment. Everyone in my family just stopped, the room fell silent, as we were taken over by utter intrigue, for the poetry in motion on the small screen. The fact that no computer trickery was used, makes the final fluid array. All that much more breathtaking to watch and enjoy.
The advert for the Audi
A6, too builds on this sense of mystery and intrigue.
The luxury saloon drives around a city centre, but
if you look more closely at the backdrops, you will
be taking a double take for sure. They at first appear
fine, but at closer inspection you realise that the
car is driving around a city that does not exist in
reality. This will make much more sense to you, once
you have seen the ad.
Just a passing observation. You must have seen the
video or at least heard the latest track by Jay Sean.
Is it just me, or does it have more than a passing
resemblance to the 1995 internation hit by Luniz,
"I Got Five On It"? Listen to it very closely next
time you hear it, and wait for the chorus.
Woke up this morning, and with my breakfast, I was flipping around the variety of music channels. They I stumbled upon VH1 Classic. The opening piano solo, threw me slightly, as I gathered my thoughts to reflect. Yes maybe it is true. Maybe, "That's Just The Way It Is".
Sunday 13th June 2004
I watched the action comedy, I-Spy
on Sky Movies last night. Not a movie I would have
gone to the cinema to see, but enjoyable way to waste
away a few hours on a Saturday night. It is amazing
how Eddie Murphy has not aged in his movies and appears
as fresh as he did when playing Axel in Beverly Hills
Cop. I think he is still very funny, even if some
say his act is very much old hat. I also really admire
Owen Wilson, as an actor able to play both serious
and comic roles. I have to admit, that I prefer his
brother, Luke. Particularly in such movies as Charlie's
Angels and Blue Streak. Excellent stuff. I still have
not been to the cinema this year, apart from seeing
the final Lord Of The Rings movie, towards the end
of January. Will try and make time for such things
later this summer.
England play France later this evening. (As if you
didn't know already?!) Looking forward to the spectacle,
particularly how the English defence deal with the
master, Henry. Like many other people, I am proud
to have the flag of Saint George, flying high above
my car. Does it sum up how I feel, on a day like today?
No, only Shakespeare can do that my friends.
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!
Saturday 12th June 2004
I was driving home from a friend's house late last
night, traveling on my favourite road. I am not sure
exactly why this stretch of insignificant tarmac has
become so important to me. I suppose, because it is
the final leg of my journey as I return home and enter
the home counties, my home county, Buckinghamshire.
It is not exactly the most impressive piece of the
UK motorway network, but it just has a special place
in my passion for driving. At that time of night,
traffic is so light, you can cruise at a moderate
speed and make great time on your journey. I join
onto the motorway at junction 6 (southbound), just
has it cuts through a hillside, and on a clear sunny
day, you can see the chalk cliff faces as you drive
through, leaving Oxfordshire far behind you. Then
has you travel some five miles, taking a quarter of
the full mileage total, you go past junction 5, which
is the A40 / Stokenchurch exit. Here, there is some
lighting and the three lanes level off after the difficult
uphill climb. This is the point, when you put you
foot on the throttle, head onto the fast lane and
coast towards Wycombe. There is not much to see on
this drive, particularly at night. But then, as I
see the signs for junction 4 appear, the lighting
re-appears and on the left hand side, there is the
white building, telling me, "Andrew, your nearly home",
in a comforting tone, that soothes my mind and warms
my heart. The song I was listening to on my drive
home was took my breath away, and gave me the chance
to reflect on yesterday, today and even tomorrow.
I realise now when this journey began. The journey
began, in the early hours of Sunday 22nd December
2002. I was leaving Hitchin, Hertfordshire, after
the work Christmas party. As I drove across the M25,
on that cold winter's night, I was listening to "Something
Inside So Strong" by Labi Siffre. The song has been
used by Peugeot, a few months previously for the launch
of their new 307 model. Only last night, did I realise
the significance of that event, some eighteen months
later. I felt then, that some worldly power was telling
me that everything is going fine and that all the
challenges that lie ahead will be worth the effort.
Today I realise that it is true. You do indeed, reap
what you sow. With hard work and dedication you can
achieve anything. Nothing is impossible, apart from
the restrictions you place upon yourself. As everything
has happened so quickly and all the pieces of the
jigsaw fallen into place, with perfect timing, I found
myself seeing my life taking a dramatic change. A
change for the better, for sure. A change that is
going to do me good, in the long term, for sure. But,
I would be lying if I did not attempt the great sense
of apprehension I feel. Anxious that tomorrow, will
bring more challenges for me to face and more decisions
to make. I suppose I am afraid of making the wrong
decision. But I should not fear such things. They
will not help my course now. I should take the approach,
that I will always make the wise decision, considering
the circumstances. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
Every minute is changing the colours of life,
Sometimes it is cold, sometimes it is hot,
Live every minute to the full,
Whatever the atmosphere,
Who knows is tomorrow will be or not
Friday 11th June 2004
Lady Luck does cast somewhat of a great shadow over
my life. When I need luck the most, it runs out on
me and finds another friend (or is that foe?). I can
recall moments, in my life, when everything is in
place. All I need is just an ounce of good luck. The
dream has never been forefilled, that goal never reached,
the final song never sung. Until now. For once, I
have some good news. Describing this has good news
does not do what I have to announce, any justice at
all. There is good news, and there is the news I am
about to tell the world. I never thought everything
would fall into place so quickly, or in such a straightforward
manner. If you had taken a seat next to me in my car,
during my daily 120 mile round trip during my placement
year, you would had quite a uphill task to convince me
of the following. That within the space of some eighteen
months, I would be working in the City for one of
the most prestigious law firms in the world. I suppose,
at that time in my life, I was only seeing the finish
lines for the occasional mile, and not the whole marathon.
Call that my narrow-mindedness or naivety, if you
will. But today, I hear those wonderful words. "You
have been offered the position..". It is difficult
to describe how I feel at this moment. Glad to have
found a job, and that for the time being at least
the hunting stops and the real hard work begins. Nervous,
uncontrollably, but also slightly scared. This is
a big jump for me and bridging the gap will be a challenging
task. I also feel, a sense of excitement. I feel like
I am on the brink of something big, something new.
A new beginning, if you will. A fresh start. Where
a place to start. The greatest capital, in my eyes,
not just Europe but the world.
Now that I will be traveling to London everyday,
via the train and tube, I am going to make some decisions.
I was considering purchasing a MP3 player, and having
some music to listen to on the journey. Although,
at first this seemed like an excellent idea, I decided
against it. There is something much more enriching
and valuable I could do with the couple of hours I
will have in commuting time each day. Read. I do enjoy
reading, but have in recent years, fallen out of favour
with the 'book'. I want to start reading again, firstly
concentrating on the more classic texts, to modern
day masterpieces. Any suggestions would be greatly
appreciated. Feel free to leave your comments.
The other decision I have made, is to try and best observe people on the train and particularly on the London Underground. There is already a blog for the Tube but I am going to make my entries on here slightly more reflective. This will be based on the people I meet, the people I see and the general day-to-day goings on. I will try and make it a regular record, perhaps weekly. The aim being to build up a picture of my average week. Those other commuters whom I meet every day, or once a week also heading from leafy Buckinghamshire into the City.
The greatest gift, this blog has ever given? Well
it is simply the gift of encouragement, to make someone
else want to blog. You would think that would be enough
alone, but there is more. For one friend who has recently
started a blog, he has used my experience and positive
views as the starting point of the very first entry.
I am moved, very moved that he can put into words,
the idle chit-chat of a conversation several months
ago. The author has requested that for the time being,
his 'thought blog' be a private affair, but I am sure
the moment, he decides to make it public, I will be
on hand to offer some minor words of great congratulation.
We therefore, anxiously await his 'arrival'.
Was today a perfect day? Not sure, but it came very
very close. The pop come rock song that is heard during
the titles of Legally
Blonde easily describes how one should feel on
their 'Perfect Day'. But I feel, for me, that day
is not too far around the corner.
Sun's Down, A Little After 10
I Pick Up All My Friends In My Mercedes Benz
Wake Up!(Wake Up) Don't Tell Me It's Just A Dream (Just A Dream)
Cuz When I've Had Enough You'll Hear Me Say
Now Don't You Try To Rain On My
Perfect Day
Nothing's Standing In My Way
On This Perfect Day
Where Nothing Can Go Wrong
It's The Perfect Day
Wednesday 9th June 2004
I was again in central London this afternoon. On
the interview trail once more. This occasion being
more optimistic than in the past. As I headed back
towards the tube station, I stopped to take a phone
call on my mobile. I was idly watching the passers
by, as I spoke on the phone. Then I saw a familiar
face. A face so familiar that it could be part of
the family. For we let him in our homes every evening
at ten, sharp. For a second, I was star-struck with
my mind working overtime, "is that really him?". Then
as he came closer and we made eye contact, I knew
for sure. I had just traded visual blows with the
'Maverick'. An experience that would not be repeated
for some time. Who am I talking about? The answer
can be found on my blog entry from Thursday 23rd January
2003. This is not the first time I have met one of
the men from Aunty.
On Thursday, September
11th, last year I was in Central London. On that occasion,
I exchanged glances with the man whom questioned
the count of the night.
Does that make sense? It will. It will soon.
What do we do when we meet someone new? Someone new,
that in physical appearance and demeanor reminds you
of an old friend. But what if to complicates matter
further, that old flame, is no longer with us? Do
not take this as some worldly dilemma, it is just
a comment in passing. If the truth be known, I have
only had the most shortest of conversations with them,
and even then it has been more image than substance.
The trivial trade of smiles and introductions. Nothing
concrete, nothing significant. Nothing to report.
Yet. Give me time.
There are quite a few white rappers out there. The
most famous that I can recall are of course Vanilla
Ice, to the present day bad boy of hip-hop, Eminem.
But there are others! Do you remember the song, 'Informer',
with the catchy chorus, "a licky bomb bomb down...".
Well that was by the white rapper, Snow. The video
is being shown by KISS on their music channel. It
was while in a popular hang out for students, on Friday
28th May, that I noticed it playing the background,
while talking to my friend Sippy. As we walked down
the stairs out into the cool spring evening, I heard
him sing along, "Informer...". A song I had to then
download, purely for the novelty factor, but also
that you always forgot how special it was back in
the early 1990s. I should know, it was then sampled
by every known bhangra artist of the time and re-worked
into many hit songs, that following summer.
I have only burnt one CD album for the car, in the two weeks since I returned to Wycombe. This is quite poor for me. Particularly, as you will recall that I created an album a week, during my time on placement, and there were always at least two new CDs in my car CD changer every week. I suppose the main reason for this is that I have been extremely busy. The second, is that I have not had enough new material available to justify an album. An album that I need to get off the ground as soon as possible is the rock collection of mainly high octane air guitar numbers.
Tuesday 8th June 2004
London, has always been a city of great excitement
for me. Mainly because I have only visited it as a
tourist, with family or for entertainment purposes.
In recent weeks, it has become the venue of work.
My perception of the city will change in the coming
weeks, as I spend more and more time commuting to
our capital for job interviews. The professional atmosphere,
that surrounds many places, surrounds London like
a thick fog. Even during my visits, I have noticed
that there is an underlying urgency with all the people
there. Be it on the tube, on the streets or shops.
This rush, is actually a great buzz and one of the
reasons I really want to work in the City. Do I really
need to give any other reasons?
One of my favourite, feel good movies, was on BBC1
last night. Shooting
Fish, staring a much more wholesome, natural,
dare I say more intellectual, Kate Beckinsale. These
were the heady days before the Hollywood machine,
got their hands of our starlet. I had seen the movie
on Sky
back in the days of analogue satellite, and had really
enjoyed the classic British comedy and Indie soundtrack.
It is one of those movies, that you can watch and
as it is so light and easy to absorb, it easily entertains.
Just let me dig out some of the songs from the soundtrack.
I am not big into my astronomy, but I like to be
aware of any of the big events that take place every
few years. Well the transit of Venus across the Sun,
is an event that no living human being has ever seen.
For the low down on the event, with a full historical
background and clock watch of the passage of these
heavenly bodies, please check out the Diamond
Geezer, who is always armed with the trivial and
irrelevant facts.
Never forget those true heroes of our time. For many,
their act of bravery and courage was their last.
Sunday 6th June 2004
The 40th President of the United States, passed away
yesterday. A strong symbol of 1980s America. The news
was overshadowed, by the 60th anniversary of the D-Day
landings. I have been enjoying some of the coverage
on the BBC.
History is one of my favourite subjects, and the Second
World War, is the greatest topic for me. What makes
the events more significant to me personally, is that
eleven years ago, I was in Normandy with my middle
school. I have dug out some photographs, I just need
to find the time to scan them in and upload them to
the website. There are some interesting photographs,
as I have images of Pegasus Bridge. The site of the
first moments of liberation on 6th June 1994. I also
have an postcard, autographed by Major John Howard,
who was in charge of the operation to secure the bridge.
That was the location of the celebrations and ceremony
yesterday afternoon. Today, it was the time of the
great American war cemetery in Coalville. I also have
some photographs of this peaceful place, overlooking
Omaha beach. The final resting place for some 9,000
US service man. Again, I will try and scan some images
in and upload them as soon as I can. For the time
being, I recommend you go the fantastic BBC D-Day
website.
Let us never forget the price these young men and
women paid for us. For our tomorrow they gave their
today. We must remain grateful for their sacrifice
and pray that never again should a time come, when
such great sacrifices have to be made again. As I
left the NEC on Saturday afternoon, over a week ago,
I headed to the railway station. On my way there,
I saw some veterans from the Battle
Of Britain seeking small donations for their charity.
I gave some money, the little change I had on me,
to hear a voice behind me say to these old men, "People
quickly forget the great things, ordinary men, like
you did for us,". I turned around to find out who
had said this, but it was too late, he was gone. I
smiled, as I was given a badge, feeling somewhat proud.
Proud to know that the sacrifices of others, strangers
in a generation nearing their end, have not gone unnoticed
or unobserved.
My journey back to Leicester that Saturday evening
was via the 330 coach, to Nottingham. When I eventually
found the correct coach, (there were two going to
Nottingham, but only one stopping at Leicester) there
were only a few spaces left. So I grabbed the first
seat I could and sat down next to a guy, around my
age. He was listening to his CD walkman, and I could
hear the distant sound of Vindaloo by Fat Les over
his earphones. Instantly my thoughts drifted to Euro
2004. It had completely slipped my mind, that
here were on the verge of another classic international
tournament. The build up is so different to the World
Cup two years ago. Perhaps because it lacks the global
appeal. I know certain people who, although have no
strong interest in football, will watch the World
Cup religiously. When it comes to the European Championships,
however, they do not bat an eyelid. Never mind. There
loss at the end of the day. So many great players
being showcased! However, I really had an urge to
discuss England's chances with the passenger sitting
next to me. I then made the initial judgment, that
he was being highly antisocial and did not want to
talk. I promised myself, the moment he stopped listening
to his music, I would speak to him. That opportunity
came, just as the coach was pulling off the M69 and
into Leicester. I soon discovered I was sitting next
to Andy Guilder. Someone who again, is making those
sacrifices in his own way to help those who have drifted
from the righteous path. To my surprised he too keeps
his own journal, in the form of his website, AGuilder.
I even get a mention, if rather brief during an update
last month. My blog is having a major impact in my
life even letting new people find out more about my
life. I just hope that future brings with it more
happiness, not just for me, but for all the new people
that have recently walked into my life.
In the past 12 months I have made more friends that I could ever have imagined. Now that I am back in Wycombe, I see a need to reconnect with my old college and schoolfriends. This is not going to be an easy task, but at least I will try and see what sort of reception I get. Maybe even some have been keeping 'tabs' on me via this blog. Then again, knowing my friends, maybe not.
Friday 4th June 2004
A week ago, I was on my PC, applying for some jobs.
I was quite pleased with myself having now secured
two interviews for next week. The phone rang. It was
my Dad. He said I should go down to the NEC for the
British Motor Show. My initial reaction, was to decline
the offer. I was not in the mood to trek to Birmingham
and back, particularly on the train. However, my Dad
persuaded me to go, so I looked into the various options
of getting there. Train seemed an ideal choice, at
first but I decided upon the National
Express. The return fare was slightly cheaper
than the train option, and it also allowed for me
have a look around Birmingham city centre. Something
which I had not done, for over two years. At that
time, the Bull Ring was still in major development.
However, I will discuss that amazing shopping centre,
later. So on Saturday morning, I got up early to head
over to the NEC. My main aim was to take my digital
camera and take as many photos as possible. I just
wanted to enjoy my day out and make the most of being
able to see some of the most prestigious and expensive
cars in one place. When I arrived, the first thing
I did got through the entrance, was to head over to
the test drive area. There was no queues, well apart
for the Subaru Impreza WRX. I got in line for Honda,
hoping that the Civic Type-R would be available to
test drive. To my disappointment, it was not available,
but the closest matching vehicle was the Civic VTEC
Sport 1.6. This is basically a Type-R lookalike, without
all of the go of it's hot hatch brother! When I headed
out to the test circuit, I asked one of the Honda
guys, why this decision had me made. It was purely
a management decision. Although the Type-R is highly
desirable for those in my age group, it lacks general
appeal. So the Sport was chosen to appeal to both
a younger new driver audience, as well as the petrol
heads. My navigator for my journey around the test
circuit, was called, Andy. He was very friendly and
helpful as he guided me around the circuit. It was
basically a car park that had been coned off, and
you were only able to get to a top speed of 30 mph
as the majority of the time you were weaving in and
out of the cones. Just as I am writing this, the post
has arrived. Including my Civic Brochure from Honda.
I think the Type-R in Nighthawk Black Pearl will do
nicely sir!
You may recall that I also have my sights set on
the Fiat
Stilo Abarth. I enjoyed a full demonstration in the
car on Friday 25th April
2003. At the time, I made the comment, that the Honda
Civic Type-R had been blown out of the water by the
Stilo. Well, I have to say that the Japanese manufacturer
has made the come back I had anticipated. The facelift
given to the new 2004 model has improved the presence
it has on the road. Decisions, decision. What do we
go for now? The street hot hatch, which screams out,
I've arrived. Or the gentle cruiser, which is much
more relaxed and less in your 'face'. I will of course
report more, after the test drive of both cars!
Other highlights from the show were of course the usual suspects and some rather unique concepts. I took around 160 photos on the day, but I have cut these down to the best 110 images and uploaded them to an album on the photos page.
Job hunting has been going very well. Much better
than expected. If you had told me during my placement
that I would have a handful of interviews on my return
to Wycombe, I would have laughed at you. It just feels
that with every interview the stakes are slightly
high, and my nerves further on edge. I am hoping to
have a job by July. That is aim, let us hope it becomes
a reality.
May has been the most popular blogging month to day
on the site. It beats the hold record held by November
2003. It was also the first time I had experimented
with comments for all blog entries. My conclusion
being that it has been an subtle rather than overwhelming
success. My aim will be to have a month, sometime
in the future, which has a blog entry for every day
for at least 30 days. However, my view is that the
entries would become repetitive and somewhat lack
the quality of other previous entries. We shall see.
I hope to get the blog back up to date, over the weekend.
There are still a few things I need to mention from
my last week at University.
Monday 31th May 2004
Firstly, I wish to extend my deepest apologises to
many of my friends. The last few days, and this holiday
weekend just past, have been extremely hectic. I have
tried my best to keep in touch with everyone and let
them know what is going on. I know this has not always
been possible, therefore, I would like to use my blog
to make this brief announcement. I am sorry to anyone,
who feels I have not been a good friend to them in
the past week or so. A friend commented, that I had
forgotten all the 'little people'. This is not the
case at all. I have not forgotten anyone, it just
has been hard to find the time to reply to e-mails,
texts and of course e-mails. With this apology, I
would subsequently like to add, that I will be making
a renewed effort to get in touch with everybody (and
I do mean, everybody) over the course of the next
few days.
Not been able to spend the amount of time I would have liked on my website today. I am currently going through all the images from the Motor Show. There are 160 in total. I want to bring them down to a reasonable number, and then upload a selection of the best. Edited, cropped and re-sized only eight so far. Hope to have the album added and the current albums updated by the end of the week. But please, don't hold me to that deadline.
So how do I add a final note for Leicester? The city
holds so many great memories for me, that it is difficult
at times to realise, the significance of the decision
to go to the Midlands to study.
Closure is important in all of our lives. It is important
to know that there is a need to move on. What is more
difficult to grasp is the opportune moment to do so.
This will not be my final entry on Leicester, because
there is so much more the city holds for the future.
Sometimes words are just not enough, and a picture
paints the scene, in a more powerful and dramatic
fashion. A new day, has come.
Sunday 30th May 2004
As a general rule, I try to blog, as soon after the
event as possible. However, you must understand that
this is not always possible. This weekend, has been
one of those moments. I tend to have a strange blog.
When there is nothing of great interest going on,
I blog regularly and almost erratically. The moment,
my schedule becomes just slightly busy, I find it
difficult to find the time to blog. My weekend plans
changed dramatically from a quiet weekend, maybe going
to the cinema with my housemates. Instead, on Friday,
I decided, on the advice or rather encouragement of
my Dad, to go to the NEC
for The
Sunday Times Motor Show Live. I was hoping to
convince one of my friends to go, but at such sort
notice (around seven hours) I cannot really blamed
them.
So, this is just a very quick update on the points I will discuss in my next entry (at some point tomorrow evening, hopefully!)
As you can see, loads of things to cover and many things for me to deal with offline. Hope to bring you all the latest very very soon.
Friday 28th May 2004
My housemate Nav told me that he knew a 'Strickland'
back at his secondary school. No relation to the case
of the bully,
recently in the news. To understand the significance
of this comment, you need to go back to my entry from
Friday 23rd January
2004. I have not had the pleasure or (discomfort)
to know anyone from my favourite childhood movies.
Until now, that is. From the instant introduction,
my thoughts drifted to pitballs, a sports almanac
and of course, manure! Yes, the arch villain from
the Back
To The Future Trilogy. Perhaps arch villain is
too strong a description. George McFly's rival, that
sounds better. It is not for me to discuss the major
cosmic powers at play when it comes to the mystery
of chance events. The more I drift from a skeptic
to a believer, that everything happens for a reason.
To not be in control of my destiny is a feeling, I
hate. But I am beginning to learn that it is choice,
not chance - that determines our destiny. Even the
most smallest and insignificant decisions you make,
can have a paramount consequence later on. Sometimes
this decisions are even forced by others. Sippy and
I had been sitting on a table in the middle of the
hall. Then we were moved towards the back of the hall,
when the evening meal was served. We chose a table,
thinking little of the chain reaction of events we
were just about to start. So Biff and some friends
came and sat down on our table. Who knows where the
conversation will take us and whether, these trivial
introductions will go beyond the few hours of the
evening. I try to tell myself I am a good judge of
character. But even, I have been proved wrong. Haven't
we all? But Biff had little in common with his Hollywood
name sake. A comforting thought, he does not want
to know how Sibtain reacts when someone calls him,
"yellow".
I find it very difficult to control my level of expectations,
generally. When there is something around the corner
I am looking forward to, I begin to elevate the occasion,
far beyond what is deemed necessary. Then, when everything
falls apart at the seems, and I found myself inconsolable.
Having invested so much hope and great expectation
into this something, and when it doesn't go to plan,
I feel somewhat disappointed and even cheated that
things did not go according to plan.
One of the more strange events of the evening, was my conversation with a waiter.
For a young man in his early twenties, and of Anglo-Saxon
heritage, I was rather bemused, when he asked, "Is
Raghav playing tonight?". I was then shocked to discover
he had a likely for the Urban Asian music scene and
wanted to know what other acts were playing. Everyone
to their own, and in my own personal nature, I should
have been quiet pleased of the social integration
taking place between two very different communities.
But for some reason, my thoughts drifted back to one
of my first nights out in Leicester, at the beginning
