Home :: Info :: Photos :: Audio :: Top 10 :: Messages :: Links

  2005 Blog Archive

Two thousand and five was the year my blog went up a gear. Moving from paid hosting with a highly unreliable company, in August to 123-Reg. As, a now established member of the blogging community, my focus changed to promoting my blog and also learning about other blogs on similar subjects. Hence my blog roll grew, with a little help from Technorati.

Friday 30th December 2005

I have a confession to make. I have in recent months (perhaps over the past year) become quite obsessive with this blog. To the point which, this cartoon actually applies perfectly. So I must apologise for trying to inflate my ego in this way. My biggest mistake is to say, "yeah, it's all recorded on the blog...". Although I don't really do new year resolutions perhaps I should make a decision to stop mention blogs and blogging.

Speaking to Chris on Christmas Day we arranged to meet up in Marlow on Thursday evening. Then, during the course of the week on MSN, we arranged to meet up for a kick about in the early afternoon. At first, knowing what the weather had been like, I was not very keen, but my colleague persuaded me otherwise. I knew that some exercise (no matter how little) would do me some good. Particularly as over the past few days I had became a lazy vegetable, getting up late and having rather big meals during the day. I made it into Henley, just after 1pm and was surprised that it was not as cold as I had originally expected. We headed over to the football pitches, owned by my old college. In my two years studying A-Levels, I never came down for a game on the grass. My friends preferred the banks by the river Thames. I could go into detail about we did but it is not very exciting to be frank. Chris had the first stint in goal and I just took shots, free kicks and penalties. Then we swapped over, but as you can imagine I was far from effective between the sticks. After ninety minutes, I officially caught the football buzz and was happy to stay out for a little longer. The weather was no longer an issue, if it was cold, I was not feeling anything. However, my friend was hungry, tired and wanted to head back home. For once, it was me trying to guilt trip him into staying out longer, but it was no use. We returned to his house for a while before I headed back to Wycombe. Two games of SWOS and I was emphatically beaten. Although in the second match, I scored the goal of the afternoon, dribbling past not two but three defenders and lobbing the keeper. What a beauty - back of the net! Doing some quick research on the net, I discover that the greatest football game of all time, is making a comeback in the first quarter of next year. The screen shots look impressive and hopefully the gameplay is still there.

It is that time of year, when you review the past 12 months. Interesting 100 things over on the BBC. There is also the review of the television adverts over the past year. I have been trying to reflect back on my year in words. It has generally been very good. At the turn of the year, I was in finding my feet in a new job and after a shaky start it is going well, surprisingly well. The rest of the time has flown by with perhaps only a handful of noteworthy events. My visit to Cardiff for the Community Shield, three visits to Highbury including Members Day in August. I have made a host of new friends along the way, many of them online. This year will also go down as featuring my first ever concert, at the tender age of 24! If I can think of anything else interesting to put here, expect me to update this entry over the coming few days.

Little left to say about from wishing all visitors to my blog, both old and new all the best for 2006.

Monday 26th December 2005

So this is Christmas, just where to begin. Everything does link together in some strange way so I will see how I get on. With all the hype and commercial pressure, I think many of us forget the religious significance of the day. It is not about the presents, the tree, or the food. It is about the feeling you have inside and goodwill to your fellow man (or woman). A friend often comments to me that it is about expectations and how we fail to manage them. I tend to agree, but for me, it is more than just one day, it is about the time of year, the smiles among other people and the sparkle in the eyes of children (both young and old).

My sister asked Santa for some perfume and received True Star, the perfume by Miss Knowles. When I smelt the aroma, it made me think. It smells just as you would expect Beyoncé to smell like. I know this sounds completely stupid and I will never (ever) be able to verify this statement, but someone, somewhere must understand what I mean. She is not the first and will not be the last to carry out one of these celebrity endorsements. Most people believe that no star would wear the product they are so closely associated with. In the case of the former Destiny's Child singer, I will, in my own mind make an exception.

This links us well to my next topic. Movie trailers. On Christmas Eve, with an hour or so to spare, my Dad and I decided to check out the latest movie trailers on my X-Box. There were several that caught my attention, but one features B. While I am not a fan of remakes, The Pink Panther, with Steve Martin in the lead role looks good. Sure, no one can replace Peter Sellers or Burt Kwok as Cato. They have made it a prequel to the original 1963 movie to keep the distance from the original masterpieces and included an all-star cast and glittery location. From the trailer, the humour is there, but will the plot and storyline match? Time will tell. Book the date in your diary, February 10th. The other trailers that we saw, which are worth noting are Mission Impossible III, which looks a blast. Tom is back and this time, it looks like the love interest is there to do more than just look pretty. The third film in the X-Men series looks darker, with various twists and turns. Then the final trailer, which perhaps showed the least amount of the movie was Superman Returns. They call them teaser trailers and you will be begging for more. Superman, perhaps is my favourite superhero and his return to the silver screen is much anticipated. While the cape will be a difficult fit, particular Reeve, who played the part so well, the story will also need to be believable (if you can ever say that with comic book movie adaptations). In any case, the director, Singer has gone back to the original for both the score (Williams must be the best theme tune producer ever!) and the narrative. Marlon Brando returns from the grave to utter the immortal line, which send a chill down your spine as Superman flies off into the distance. 'They only lack the light to show the way, for this reason above all, their capacity for good. I have sent them you, my only son'. What more can I add after the words of the great Jor-El. 2006 is going to be a great year for movies.

The usual question at this time of year, is what did you get? Or did Santa bring you anything good / nice? I will quote my friend, Pav who said on Christmas Day on MSN, 'the usual bits and bobs'. The usual DVD's, CDs and clothes. However, I was most jealous of my first cousin, Ramzi. Who got from my sisters, this fantastic spaceship. To Infinity & Beyond. The intro sequence to Toy Story 2 (which was shown on BBC1 on Christmas Day) has to be my favourite of all time (including normal motion picture movies). I recorded the segment onto my PC as an mpg file. I'll save the snapshots for another time. You never know when you'll need to call upon a space ranger.

Toy Story 2, cleverly links us to the next topic of discussion. The Greatest Family Films of all time. The festive period would not be complete without some countdown shows and Channel 4 are not one to disappoint. Back To The Future came seventh, which is fantastic, considering the movie is now well over twenty years old. Plus ET is a deserving winner, it has everything you expect from a family movie. The talk of the sci-fi trilogy, got me heading over to the non-official home, over at BTTF dot com. On the news page, I discovered there was a rumour that Michael J. Fox was keen on returning for a fourth movie. However, a quick visit to the DeLorean Owners Club UK provided the truth behind the headlines. There was no discussion of a fourth film and as usual Fox's comments had been misconstrued. In any case, this news came to remind me that I am (in name only) a member of the DOC UK. (Yes, I know I don't own a DeLorean but it is a club for non-owners as well!) and that I need to pay my annual subscription by the end of the year. On the site there was news of upcoming events in 2006. A weekend over in East Anglia at the home of Lotus caught my eye straight away and I e-mailed the club secretary straight away for further details. Still awaiting his reply but a trip down to the spiritual father of the DeLorean, will make for a fantastic weekend in June.

Wow, this is turning out to be one of my epic entries. So how best to end such an entry? A quote from my favourite soap. Sorry, make that my beloved soap, Eastenders. We are in the A & E department and father turns to his sun to say... "How many times have I told you Thomas, your not a Dalek!" Boy, aged around 7 with saucepan on his head!. Moments later a drunk guy goes into the Christmas tree, which was standing in the corner. The tree then collapses on top of him! Classic.

Friday 23rd December 2005

Been far too busy this week to give my blog the time it deserves until now. The night before Christmas Eve and the excitement of the big day just so close, you can almost touch it. I feel good, no actually I feel great. Christmas always brings out the best of me as a person and I am glad that I am one of those people that always gets into the Christmas spirit.

It was almost pointless coming into work, other than to bid my colleagues a Merry Christmas with chocolates and samosas. We had zero phone calls, which is an improvement on last year, when an update was issued and a few reps called in during the morning. My colleague Chris got me a Champions League football for Christmas but not gone to the length of wrapping the gift. I can't really blame him, it would have been difficult to disguise. Then he asked if I was up for a quick kick about in the car park before I left. Of course I was. This was the first football that I owned in over twelve years. It has been so long since I saw a football in real life, and not on the television that it made a refreshing change. However, the signs were still there, I was still highly unfit and got no technical ability on the ball whatsoever. Yet, that didn't matter. The car park slowly deserted before we were the only ones left, passing the ball and Chris showing off his keepy uppies. Is this a good time to mention I have signed up for my work football team?

Saw the video for X-Factor winner, Shayne Ward today. I must say he was a deserving winner, although it did get me thinking of other black winners of reality television shows. Of course, there is only Tim Campbell who won the UK version of The Apprentice. Personally I think there is no racism in these shows, it is purely based on talent. The better singer won on the night. There have now been a series of winners, specifically solo artists, with only the original, Will Young still having some impact in the charts. Michelle McManus was, as expected only a minor success after her show. Now we have Shayne, who apparently has more mass international appeal, due to his boyish good looks. Time will tell. What I can say is that his first single is very good. For some reason the people behind these shows, know how to write the perfect ballad to reflect the feeling of achievement. Will Young had, "Evergreen", Michelle had "This Time" but "That's My Goal" just hits the right notes in my opinion. If I am honest with you, I did prefer Andy's performance of the song on the night but perhaps because he sang it first. Mr. Ward potentially has a bright future ahead of him. Let us just hope he does not end his career before it has started like David and Steve.

There is nothing more left to say apart from wish everyone a very merry Christmas and a prosperous 2006. I may not get around to sending you an e-card tomorrow, so just for the record, I leave my seasons greetings to you all here, on my web site, like I do every year.

Sunday 18th December 2005

Looking back, this is a weekend, which I hope had never happened. The omens were not good from the start. My amp installation, scheduled for Saturday morning, was moved back to Saturday afternoon. Pav had gone over to Kent with his new 'shoes' for his M3 ride, to get them refurbished. He got back at 12.34 exactly (according to his portable satellite navigation system, which is accurate to within minutes, apparently!) In any case, I rushed over there, looking forward to installing the amp and for a change getting my hands dirty. Things did not look good from the outset, taking out my head unit, we realised I needed a pre amp cable adapter to connect the head unit to the amp. Calling a few local car audio specialists, we had little joy. Even a trip down into Caversham, to Mar Parts proved unfruitful. It was a Blaunkpunt specialist part and would only be available to order from authorised blue spot dealers. However, not to give up so soon, there were two more ICE resellers in the Berkshire town to try. Pav firstly rang 118118, but they proved next to useless. The woman on the phone could hardly speak English and my college friend had to spell out the name of the county! We then tried 118500 and instantly got the text message with the number we were looking for. This was to be the first bombshell of the weekend, no joy. I would have to order the cable online and then come back to carry out the installation another time. Even though at first, I was hoping to wire up the amp in situation and just plug in the cable at the back of the head unit when the lead arrived. Seeking professional advice from a man that carries out in car entertainment installations everyday of his working life, we decided upon the following course of action. When the lead arrives, I take it over to a leading high street store and get the job done professionally. So, was it a wasted journey? Surely not, as Pav borrowed my Mini DV camcorder to record some family video onto this laptop. The audio can wait, your first Christmas with your nephew is priceless.

We all deal with defeat in different ways. I tend to (as much as possible) switch off. This tends to become very difficult when you spend such a vast number of hours online and connected, but I tend to get grumpy. I will spend no time on reflecting on the poor performance, there are other blogs out there much more capable. Instead let me describe my day and the build up, the anti-climax and the fear of going into work tomorrow.

If Sky had their way, every live game screened would be the next big title decider. While, I will give them credit for the lack of hype surrounding this fixture as in the past. I woke up around 9am, and tried to occupy myself to take my mind of things. First thing was to head off into the cold winter morning and check my car over and then give it a wash down the local jet wash. As expected the jet wash was frozen and out of order. I headed over to the car wash at a nearby Total petrol station (which coincidentally had no fuel!) to have a car wash. Thankfully a VW Passat was ahead of me in the queue. The driver was having a horrible time, firstly trying to get into the carwash (ice outside) and then actually get the device to work. As I paid for my car wash ticket, he came in and asked the assistance for help. Sure enough, the car wash was iced up and while trying to operate was not pushing out any water. The attendant attempt to reset the device a few times, but just left this middle aged man sitting in his car driving back and forth (a few yards) in hope it would start up. By this time I had had enough, particularly when a member of the public came up and asked me if I worked here. Please. I drove home for some breakfast. Thankfully my ticket is valid for seven days, so I can come back when the weather is slightly warmer.

Going out in the 307, I happened to have an hour spare so headed over to South Harrow to a dedicated wash centre. Basically a converted Total petrol station, which now has two jet wash stations and vacuums in place of petrol pumps. The car was in a state, but what do you expect with my mother driving. Going into to pay for my two tickets, I was shocked to discover the attendant lying back on his chair, fast asleep. Didn't really want to disturb his beauty sleep. I gave the car, a quick clean but not to my satisfactory high standard and then checked the tyre pressures and to my surprises they were all dead on the right pressure. Then I joined the queue for the jet wash, at around 2.30pm, an hour before the Super Sunday programme started on Sky Sports One. There was three cars ahead of me, but thankfully two wash bays. An Asian man, with flowing long hair, was doing a dedicated job on his 53 plate Honda Accord. He had a chamois leather drooping out of his back pocket. He spent at least fifteen minutes cleaning the car and then a further twenty drying (thankfully away from the wash bay). I did not have the luxury of all this time on my hands. I was keen to get in, washed and out as soon as possible. I wanted to be heading back to Wycombe as soon as possible. Unlike the event earlier this morning, there was little chance of me trekking back down the A40 to South Harrow. By 3pm, my turn finally arrived and I must say I am impressed with this new, service code driven system. Basically you enter the code you have purchased and the time begins counting down. You can then select a variety of options for as long as your time will allow. For those of you unfamiliar with the use of a standard jet wash. You usually buy credit in the form of time. However, the programme will run through a standard cycle and you would always be rushing to brush the entire vehicle before the bell would sound and you have to apply the wax. In any case, the job was done, the car was much cleaner than when I arrived and I rushed back to collect my Mum and sister from Hillington and head home.

When the final whistle went I wondered how I could occupy my time for the rest of the evening. I rang, Chris, just to pre-empt his rude text message (which for the record never arrived!). In the end, I opted to load up my RnB play list in Win Amp, put the volume up and head for a long shower to forget about things. Just as I came out of the shower, I looked at my mobile. Sure enough there was a text message and I knew who it was from. Instead of his usual, 'That's why we're Champions!', I was greeted with a comment I had already had in person in the office. 'I've got my binoculars out and still can't see you!'. Already, I have the picture of their smug face, with Chelsea mug in hand for Monday morning. Perhaps the first time that I do not want to go into work. Particularly those non-football fans in the office, that just laugh to make you feel worse! For a change I'll be keeping the conversation on helpdesk queries rather than work. Thank God that we don't have any big boss that supports Man Utd in the office. Just a couple of Liverpool fans that will be just as bitter at our defeat. My plan for the rest of the evening? Watch a movie about erasing the memory. Such a shame we are a good few years of bringing that to reality. I would ask for 17th and 18th December 2005 to be erased from mine!

Thursday 15th December 2005

My weekend, overall went as planned. Apart from a minor football result, but we will pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off for Sunday. For a change there has been little build up to this game. Unlike last year, when it was hyped as Judgment Day. In my heart I know we have the ability on the pitch to win. My head tells me we are in for the toughest test of the season and could be on the verge of humiliation. Still a few days left to wait. For now, let me just give a quick update on last weekend and look forward to this coming weekend, and of course the big day the following weekend.

Rarely do I have the time to plan my time at the weekend. Usually something comes up, or I have various errands to run. My Sunday was as perfect as can be. Probably. Over the course of the week, I had seen the spots on Channel 4 (before, midway and after Hollyoaks) for a film I had wanted to see four years ago, during it's theatrical release. Starring, perhaps one of the greatest actors of his generation, Fifteen Minutes is an interesting journey into the mind of a killer and his accomplice, looking for fortune and fame. At times, De Niro reminded me of an alternative Columbo (no disrespect to Peter Falk of course) whenever he lit up one of his cigars. Without wishing to reveal too much, the finale is more revenge than justice and you feel somewhat shortchanged. Particularly with such a high profile array of stars. Having said that, a great watchable television movie. Just a shame a great opening half hour is not given the time to develop into a great story.

When I was at school, although perhaps not the most popular person in the world, I received my fair share of Christmas cards. Perhaps never matching the numbers of my younger siblings. This year, for some strange reason, has been appalling, with my total count standing at three at this moment in time. While both my youngest sister and Mum are already in double figures each. My Dad even wanted me to count the Carling promotional card I received yesterday morning. No, I'm not that sad. However, I am shocked and perhaps even dismayed at this culture of not sending cards in our office. I can understand a few people not signing up to the idea (even on the feeble environmental stance!) but never have I felt the atmosphere of bar humbug in the air. Making a donation to charity, is an honourable gesture, but you can do that all year around. If it ever comes to the point, when I turn into Ebeneezer, feel free to come over and shot me! What would Mr. C. Dickens think? Thankfully there are people on this planet, who have never lost (and never hope to) lose the true Christmas spirit, in every sense of the word.

Which, brings us on perfectly to my journey home this evening. By mistake I put on Radio One. I had been aiming to change from the CD changer to the CD disc (in the head unit) but pressed the wrong button. Yet, this must have been some strange act of God. For the song they were playing was from a well known mobile advert. Of course, due to the unique way the BBC is funded, Scott Mills was unable to give away the actually name of the organisation. The strange thing is, I never noticed the song before, even though it is quite prominent in the television commercial. The first time I saw it, a few weeks ago, I was too busy trying to decipher what the service or product they were selling. Quite easy in the end, when they start waving their mobile phone directly in front of the camera and superstars, Schumacher and Van Nistelrooy appear in computerised format to stand next to Big Phil from down the road. Every year, I suppose there is a Christmas song, novelty song if you will, that captures the mood of the nation. This song is it. Some years it can be completely unrelated to the season of good will, or perhaps just slightly reflect the pressures of modern living. What makes this song, entitled, "Under The Tree" so special? Well firstly it is so simple and catchy, with a great straightforward chorus. (Do not worry the full song, is much more substancial than the short segment in the snow on television. There is the romantic harmony of the lyrics too, which have the same sentiments as The bells in the background make it magical and I can proudly say their inclusion has put me right into the mood for Christmas. I'm like a giddy little schoolboy, excited and longing for the big day to come. Damn, I'm so pathetic!

Saturday 10th December 2005

When things are bad they are awful. When times are good, everything just falls into place. Take this morning, as an example. I had so much planned for the day. Priority, to get my haircut first thing in the morning and then head into town to pick up a few things. Parking, I gave myself two hours to complete the job and get back to the car and head home. As I got to the car, I put my key in the ignition to check the time, it was 10:57, the time on my ticket read, yes, 10:57. I drove out the car park with a grin on my face. Mission accomplished, on time but perhaps way over budget. Whose counting? Tis the season of goodwill to all men (and women?).

What has now become an annual tradition, I picked up my Christmas cards from Clintons this morning. Sorry that gives the impression that I had preordered my cards. What I mean to say is I chose my cards this morning. Looking back at my archives, I always buy my cards between 10th and 15th of the month. Although, I do get some funny looks in the queue, as I purchase individual cards for all of my family to give to them on Christmas Day. It is the thought that counts at this time of year above anything else. Although last year I said I was moving away from using Excel to record my list and recalling names at the drop of a hat from memory. I have to go back to using a spreadsheet, particular as I now have 35 people at work to write cards for. To my humiliation my sister and even my Mother have received more Christmas cards than me so far. To date I have received none. So to change this sorry sorry state of affairs, I better get writing and posting.

As I was drove my Mum's car into town, I was listening to KISS 100, no CDs I'm afraid. On the return journey, the disc jockey was counting down some download chart, sponsored by a third generation mobile network. While the artist was unfamiliar, the song became an instant hit to my hears. It must be the classic 1980s introduction or the cool, smooth, chilled RnB melody. In any case, I parked up and waited for the song to finish, yes it is that good! Been listening to it almost non-stop on my PC and is growing on me. If this boy band (can I call them that?) continue this trend, I will be sure to listen out for the next single. Oh, you want to name of the artist? They are called, Pretty Ricky.

While most people would consider me the least competitive of people, I still have an deep inner hatred of losing. Though, in my personal accomplishments, or lack there of, I have little to shout home about. It is only human nature, to associate ourselves with great success in response to some our own failures or weaknesses. Some of you would say I'm looking to deep into this, but I beg to differ. It's only a game. The reality, even if seasons come and go is that fans never let you forget those defeats and are quick to move on from the glowing successes. I suppose this is the time to be counted as a fan and show my true colours. Afterall, you may be singing when winning but when the chips are down, you just have to back the team, manager and backroom staff. Next stop Highbury. Chelsea. Too early for defeatist talk, Daniel? Or maybe we should be posing some difficult questions to the Board!

Friday 9th December 2005

The World Cup draw has just been made and the football Gods are shining down on England. (Or are these omens just too good?) Group B is with no disrespect to our competitors, a walk over. Winning the group now becomes paramount, to avoid the hosts Germany from Group A. Was it I, whom mentioned the Soca Warriors on 18th November and how great it would be to be drawn against them, after all they will be providing the soundtrack for the summer tournament, no doubt. Put it in your diary now (yes, Outlook does count!) Thursday 15th June 2006)

Friday, but not the end of just another week for me. A difficult week, without my car. Strange and awkward. At times uncomfortable. Thankfully I finished work at 4pm, to drive over to Aylesbury to collect my car. It was dark, cold with a dense fog covering the car park as I drove out into the distance. I was hoping my manager's insistence to leave thirty minutes earlier than usual would make sure I missed all the afternoon traffic. I made great time until I came up to the roundabout by my house, with traffic at a standstill. It was time for some drastic changes to my journey. Thankfully I know some back grounds to get me onto the road beyond where the hold up was. Surely if I had got stuck there, I would have missed getting to the body shop by 5.30pm, their closing time. The traffic through the town centre was busy and as I watched the minutes tick by in the Colt, I came under the realisation that I may not make it in time. Then as I pulled up onto the forecourt, my headlights lit up car, clean, repaired, almost beaming back a smile. It was great to see my car again. There is something to the scientific research that men love their cars, some even go to the length of giving their proud and joy a name. It was a great relief to see my car again, for I had missed the comforts of a powerful diesel engine. This Japanese vehicle was no match. My weekend, could not finally begin, as I headed out of Aylesbury and back to Wycombe.

Tuesday 6th December 2005

Arrived home this afternoon, to find two packages marked with my name. One, which I expected. The latest album from a-ha. The second was a surprise. It was a DVD from the guy who had been sitting next to me at the concert on Saturday. I rushed to switch on my computer and put on the DVD to find out what it was. This should not come as a shock. As soon as I get home every evening, I switch on my PC. It is the pure geek within. Back in March 2001, a-ha made their international comeback, with a concert in their hometown of Oslo, Norway. It was released on DVD, but I never got around to buying it. There is no greater feeling than, after a hard day at the office, trying to get over a cold, to hear Take On Me, blaring on the PC, as you change out of your work suit. In fact, this live rendition of their breakthrough single, is the same live version I was playing on my way up to Birmingham on Saturday afternoon. I think I will set Sunday afternoon aside to sit down and listen to analogue, while I clean up my room, the perfect way to end a quiet lazy weekend, don't you think?

Hollyoaks have had a late edition shown at 11pm each weeknight this week. This is the third after hours series of episode and perhaps the most compelling storyline with the Chester date rape coming to a head. Will the man behind all these sexual offences finally be caught? Talking into account how bad the police were with the serial murderer, don't expect any quick results. As the undisputed number one fan of the Channel 4 teen soap, I have been watching each episode religious at 11pm. Although it does slightly affect my viewing diet, as I have already watch the following nights episode on E4 earlier in the evening. People constantly ask me why I watch this soap. While they can understand my undivided love for Eastenders, they raise their eyebrows, when I ask, "Do you watch Hollyoaks?". It is at times pure comic book and outside of reality that it makes me fall to the floor in laughter. For example, hiring a bar maid, not on her talents at pulling pints but her dreamy good looks. Only in a soap could you get away with tests such as 'pick up my keys love' and which chat-up line provides the first slap as a reaction.

I did not really mention it at the time, but I had a slight knock in my car early last month. Just a slight scratch, nothing series and no injuries. The car is currently being repaired, so I have a courtesy car. While I am big fan of Japanese cars, I would like to point out I prefer big Japanese cars. The Mitsubishi Colt, just does not fit me. It is not me at all. Then again, what to you expect from a company, that makes pens, video recorders as well as cars. There has to be a lose link in the change somewhere? Oh, I forgot to mention my number plate. The last three letters are, wait for it. KFC.

My work Christmas do is next week, Tuesday in fact. One of my colleague has been calling it the 70s show, as it has a 1970s theme. While I was frankly disappointed with this 'bright' idea and the appalling venue (which should be a hanging offence for the organiser(s)). However, rather than be bitter (and some would say twisted!) I have opted to be a sport and go. Some would consider me to be last minute merchant, which I confess is true. Only organised my costume with the help of eBay this Monday morning. While I had originally thought of hiring a more outrageous costume, it did not feel right. I wanted to look cool and sophisticated and not a complete pratt, filling the part of the company clown. I can leave that to someone else!

Sunday 4th December 2005

What a night! But the day begins in the mid afternoon. I was hoping to leave at 3pm, but left exactly thirty minutes later. I had only refuelled on Friday, so my trip mileage counter was reset and showing only 2.5, as I pulled out of my drive. As I had given myself so much time to make to our second city, I was not in a hurry. I was going to cruise at 70, and listen to my favourite a-ha songs and enjoy the drive. The sun was slowly setting in the distance, as I got onto the M40, which although not busy was quite steady. I put my foot down to beat the first few weekend drivers and lorries. I had my live version of Take On Me playing and then Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears. After a while I wondered how Arsenal were doing against Bolton, so switched over to FiveLive. To my horror, we were two nil down and had put on a poor show. Although on any other Saturday evening, that would have dapended my spirits, instead I looked forward to the concert. Switching back to the CD changer as the NEC drew ever closer. It was 16:45 exactly as I pulled up into the parking space on a cold, damp winter night. It has been raining earlier throughout the day, so the ground was a slush of wet leaves and grass. My mileage counter read 88.2 miles as I stepped out of the car, I took a deep breath. My Saturday night adventure was just about to begin.

As my sister was coming from Nottingham, after finding the venue, I headed down the road to Birmingham New Street. I arrived just after 5.30pm, but would be waiting just under an hour before my young sister would arrive. Then we literally had three minutes to grab some food before jumping on the Virgin Train to London Euston, which would stop at Birmingham International. The journey took eleven minutes and gave us time to quickly catch up and grab some food. Then, it was rushing off the train to join the rest of the crowds heading towards the Arena. We picked up a programme, which while rather light, gave details of this UK tour, which goes hand in hand with their latest studio album (eight, that is correct!) I have only heard the first single from the new album, but went over to Amazon this morning to order my copy. I think it will be a case of taking some time to listen to the material, to see whether or not it grows on me. This was my first concert, so I was apprehensive of many things. Would we have good seats? What there be a good mixed crowd? Would they play my favourite songs? Would it be mad rush on the roads going home?

As we made our way into the arena, avoiding the temptation to buy any merchandise, I was impressed with the seating area. Then absolutely chuffed to be quite near the front, with a great view of the stage. Booking early, (15th April to be exact!) does have benefits. (Having just gone back and read that entry, I feel a sense of great relief of going for it!) However, when we found our seats, someone was sitting (quite innocently in my sister's seat!) and as usual, I got talking. More on that later.

The supporting act was a fellow Norwegian folk singer, Ana Brun. I can only describe her as a poor man's KT Tunstall. While I quite enjoy folk music, there is a time and a place, and the audience did eventually have enough and were glad when she exited the stage for the main act. There is only so much slow emotional music you can listen to on a Saturday night. The lights dimmed and the audience rose to their feet as a-ha appeared on stage. Then the lights eluminated the arena.

As expected, they opend with Celine, the first single from the new album and overall it is an enjoyable, uplifting radio friendly pop song. I have to be careful with my use of the world pop. A-ha have grown up and their sound has matured from the electronic synth of the 1980s into a more guitar based light rock. I will publish a full set list later, but one of my favourite a-ha songs was played a few songs in. It is called Weight Of The Wind, from their second album, Scoundrel Days.

Of course, when they played their signature tunes, 'Take On Me', 'Hunting High & Low' and 'The Sun Always Shines On TV' they got the whole crowd going. However, some of the other tracks, including heavier rock version of The Living Daylights and Stay On These Roads impressed the hardcore fan base. Overall, a great evening and a great way to spend my first Saturday night in December. I will try and post some more photos later in the week and include more feedback, particularly when I receive the new album. For the time being, I will leave you with some strange and wonderful trivia, which I am sure you will not know. Which artist has played to the highest number of paying people? Who holds the unofficial record for holding the longest note in a song? Answers on a postcard.

Friday 2nd December 2005

December is here, which can only mean one thing. However, I will try to keep some ounce of control, as there is plenty of time to get mad towards the late part of the month. Particularly with work to keep me occupied. While to my shock some individuals have already completed all their Christmas shopping, I tend to leave it as late as practically possible. Usually the last weekend prior to the big day, but due to the way Christmas falls on a Sunday, I have arranged to go shopping with my friend on Friday 23rd December, in the afternoon, straight after work. (I finish at 12pm) Therefore will need to get my shopping done by around 6pm. That sounds like a challenge to me?

Today, I should have opened the second window on my advent calendar. Too busy at the moment, may get around to eating the backlog of chocolates over the course of the weekend. Do you have an advent calendar? For as long as I can remember, I have had one. Last year was Spiderman, a previous year was Toy Story 2, this year it is The Simpson's. But no Chief Wiggum.

I have started using my PDA to make blog notes, this is a vast improvement on my old scraps of paper. It is perfect as I have my PDA on me throughout the day at work and when I am at home. In fact this entry was the first to be initially recorded on the X30. With only two subjects remaining. When do you know it is Christmas? For me it when I see the classic Coca Cola television commercial. It is the truck that brings that Christmas cheer! I saw it on Thursday evening, before I was going out and it was a great moment. What else do you cherish on the run up to the big day?

Generally speaking I do not remember my dreams. However this week, two dreams are vivid. Firstly on Wednesday night I had the images of an old college friend. Strange, I had not seen or spoken to them in at least five years. In my second dream, last night, I was back in the classroom and distracted by someone sitting in the row ahead of me. In fact it was Britney Spears. I know this is strange, I'm 24 and have these strange adolescent dreams. I didn't speak to her, but it was not a re-creation of the Baby One More Time video, although she did look more wholesome, circa 1999, rather than her modern rock chick persona. Weird. What added to this strange dream, was the change to an open field, with several American girls in football gear. Then, George Bush, (yes, that dude across the water!) came across and hit a soccer ball in my direction and I ran across in the same direction of all these young girls and started to play a game of football. Then, from what I can recall, I woke up.

Wednesday 30th November 2005

The reason I watch Eastenders is for episodes like the past week. Sure, the griping, gritty storylines keep me on the edge of the sofa, but it is the comedy value of the soap opera that actually keeps me hooked. Last Tuesday's episode is a case in point. The introduction of Honey, the so called, Honey Trap, who mistakes Billy for Patrick Trueman. This theme continued when Billy (now managing Honey) hires a Welsh photographer to take some photographs for a new portfolio. Only for the man with the lens to decide upon a location shoot. I never thought I would hear the name of Nick Kamen mentioned before Pauline Fowler, but you soon learn that nothing can surprise you in Albert Square.

Am I a geek? Apparently based on the test over at Inner Geek. This link came around via e-mail from one of my colleagues in the office, giving their own personal score. Not having the time on Monday afternoon to answer the hundred odd questions with the time and patience they required. My initial attempt scored me a low 7.5% but afterwards, another college told me there were at least another ten questions that applied to me in their totality. So I had to come home and concentrate. I am 21.49901% geek. If you are wondering what a geek is, over at Wikipedia they get it just right, with the perfect image occupying the definition.

Watching my beloved Arsenal is an honour these days, particularly as it is the last season at fortress Highbury. Of course I wish I could have been to the big grudge matches, the title deciders or big knock out rounds of the FA Cup, but instead I had the joy of watching the youngsters in the League Cup. My journey began, where most begin, with me hard at work in the office. Originally I had aimed to leave the office at 4pm to make good time for the train to North London. On the advice of my manager, I was given leave of the office at 3pm. Fantastic. Although, in reality, I knew I would be pushing it to escape the clutches of the helpdesk at this time in the afternoon. As expected just after 2pm, I got involved (heavily) in a call, which would last for over an hour. Thankfully, thinking on my feet I was able to resolve the issue (more on this subject over on my other blog) In any case, I left the office for the first time since mid September with light outside. Heading home, I looked at my watch and knew within a couple of hours I would be at the home of my club, cheering on the players to another victory. The delay of having to stay an extra twenty minutes slowly disappeared away behind me as I sped up the by pass for home.

My Arsenal top is only worn when the team are playing on TV (yes, it's a mild obsession!) so this there was a special feeling inside, as I put on the redcurrant and gold for a trip, sorry pilgrimage to a spiritual home. I called up Pete and he was on his way down to pick me up. Due to circumstance beyond our control, we headed for Beaconsfield Station, rather than Wycombe. Not only had it caught fire on Sunday evening, earlier in the month, it had been labeled a crime spot. No smoke without fire (literally, in this case!) By now trains were calling at my hometown station, but I did not want to take any risks so headed down the M40 making excellent time, just prior to the Tuesday evening rush hour. Ten to five, we were both on the quiet but warm Chiltern Railways service to Marylebone.

As the seasoned traveler, I led the way once we made our way from over ground to Underground. There was perhaps another route, but I choice to go on the Bakeloo Line from Marylebone to Piccadilly Circus to change for the Piccadilly Line all the way to not Arsenal (as would have normally been the case) but one stop along, Finsbury Park. We were not alone, a hoard of other (mainly home) fans. A businessman in a well kept suit and strong Eastern Europe accent, as Pete who Arsenal were playing. Proudly he stated Reading in the Carling Cup. Calling his Reading mates on the phone, we discovered they were in a pub right near the ground and were quite some distance off. So we headed into the Twelve Pins as it was the closest drinking establishment and we were thirsty. Thankfully, there were your fair share of Reading supporters mingling on quite friendly terms with the Highbury faithful. Then it was time to walk down to the ground, grab some food before taking our seats in the West stand. Rather than give a review of the game, I'll leave it down to the professionals. Even, Pete, the Reading season ticket holder thought this was a great balanced match report. A great atmosphere in Highbury and a different, perhaps more rounded view of the game from the West stand. This could be the last time I see my team live, while I try not to think too much about that, it is always at the back of my mind. Let us instead take the positives from the performance. Reyes back to scoring ways, as he promised in the match programme the last time I was here, on October 2nd, "the goals will come...". Van Persie continued his great form, and Lupoli, who has been knocking on the door for the past few months and scoring goals for fun in the reserves, came on, to calmly put one around the keeper after a minute on the pitch. Fantastic. There is something about the ecstasy of a football match, which is difficult to describe. For 90 minutes you are only concerned about twelve players on the field. Strange really how much emotion can be created by a simple ball hitting the back of a net. Of course, the purists among you would say that there is a lot more to it than that.

Saturday 26th November 2005

The weekend started to me singing along to the rock pop anthem, "Semi Charmed Life", by Third Eye Blind (recently re-branded as 3eb) which I had downloaded this week and had placed on to the XBox. The track may be from 1997 but is has not aged in any respect (even the video) and this was the perfect opener to my first weekend at the age of 24.

Ironically this would be the first weekend of the new licensing laws which actually came into affect on my birthday, so this year (24) will not be forgotten in a hurry. I remember speaking to a colleague a few years ago, while I worked at Jacksons who was from Sydney. He explained that in his local neighbourhood, there was a bar that opened 24 hours and only closed for an hour at the weekend to be cleaned. Even then, at the discretion of the landlord, you could remain at the bar during this time. Strange how it has taken us English so long to become accustomed to this continental style of social drinking. Well the jury is still out, whether this binge drinking phenomenon can be calmed.

Last year, my sister Natalie, got me a framed Arsenal photograph, celebrating the teams record breaking unbeaten league campaign, 2003-4. Actually it was three photographs, Arsené and Henry lifting the Cup and the team celebrating their amazing feat! It has been sitting at the top of my desk cupboard for over a year. Until last weekend. The glass had cracked soon after receiving it, and I promised I would get around to changing it. Finally I got around to having a new, classy and appropriate frame fitted. Thanks to Sippy for editing this image for me.

Talking of football, I must mention the passing of a great, gifted man. Having only discovered Sky jumping on the blogging bandwagon, I thought it best they provide the facts while I can fill in my opinion. Although I agree with Arsenal, wtf? with his/her sentiments that a man should be measured by his best days, rather than his worst. I have two points to add that may have been missed already. Georgie Best appealed to everyone, and not just football fans. I can confirm this when my own father mentioned that Manchester United was the team he supported a young boy and his favourite player was the legendary number 7. My Dad is not a football fan, far from it, but the fact that the only player he could name instantly was Best, speaks volumes for how much one player became so popular outside of the game. Parkinson perhaps sums up the Irish international best. I remember watching him being interviewed on Parky's show quite recently. Elton John was the other guest, who gave the following glowing tribute to George. 'I have seen some of the world's greatest players play, but none of them were as good as George Best!'. The audience gave a loud applause. Perhaps it is only the man himself who will know how great he could have been and how, perhaps he could have done more with his god given talent. We all have flaws, we are all human, but then there are flawed geniuses, who unlike the rest of us, can give pleasure to thousands of people, with the drop of the shoulder and a quick turn on a sixpence. I only have the videos to relive some of those magic moments. For those that were there, to see him in flesh have seen something special. To compare players from different eras is unfair. The game has moved along leaps and bounds in the subsequent decades. (Some would say in favour of the attacking side). When I eventually get around to picking my all time XI. The third name on the team sheet, after Pele and Maradona, will be Best.

Thursday 24th November 2005

If you knew how I spent my 23rd birthday, I am sure you will be glad to hear that this year began much better. I woke up in the morning and had a job. Great start to the day! I was a man on a mission and knew that today I would be taking myself well off the beaten track to become the hero of the office. My journey started just outside Marlow, as I dropped off my sister at school. Instead of heading back toward Maidenhead, I headed in the direction on home. As luck would have it I found myself behind a Carousel bus, in the thick fog, struggling up the hill. I was behind a black Civic Type-R, which looked out of place, crawling at less than thirteen miles an hour. Then he did it. I knew he would, but it happened rather quickly so I did not have the time to appreciate the smooth maneuvering (even if it was rather suicidal). Yet, our brave (or foolish) driver, was able to live to tell the tale and die another day. To truly understand what was happened, this hot hatch over took a Renault Clio and the bus heading up hill, on a blind corner in thick fog during the rush hour. As fate would have it, by the time we reached Handy Cross (slowly turning into a major demolition site) the bus was ahead of the Honda at the lights. The driver did not look very pleased.

While Slough may have a bad reputation among most of the UK population (and beyond) it is not as bad as they would want you to think. With the BBC starting a programme to make the town happy, I began to wonder the about the Science of Happiness and what truly makes us happy. Then again, after a few seconds I had the answer. They are round in shape, with a whole in the middle. Those regular readers of my blog will know that I purchased some Krispy Kremes from Canada Square back on Friday 24th August last year. This time around, my order was 72 doughnuts to feed the appetites of my work colleagues. The store in Slough has only been open a few months, it is based underneath the new Tesco Extra complex. Fantastic. As you can imagine, when I arrived at the office, much later than my usual early 8.45am, I was the most popular person ever. Including one colleague who would note down my birthday for future years in her Outlook calender.

In the evening, I headed over to Eton to Golden Curry with my family. It was a quiet setting, with a beautiful modern restaurant interior. However, there was something amiss. Instead of the standard Hindi instrumental music, they were playing the greatest hits of Wham! To top things off, at the end of the album is the festive classic, 'Last Christmas'. One of the waiting staff forgot (or did not know) how to change the CD, as it played the song about five times back to back before the disc was changed. Then the de facto standard Bollywood music filled the room. But the damage was done, perhaps just a day or two prematurely. After my birthday, there is only Christmas to look forward to! :) The music in the restaurant was just a cold, cold reminder of this commercial reality.

Tuesday 22nd November 2005

Some blogs get blog rolled instantly, no need for lousy introductions, particularly if the author is a World Record Holder. GeoffTech is such a golden example. More to come on this later.

Mighty Mouse mentioned a new bookmark sharing service under the amusing name of del.icio.us (Can you see what it is yet?). I have created my account and will spend some time this weekend, building up my collection of links and creating some useful tags.

Blog do have great value to the world, running along side mainstream media and at times having the ability to reveal more than their well established counterparts. But do they have a true monetary value? Well I have taken the plunge and discovered that my value to the world is a mere Ł1,966.51. Perhaps just about enough if you want to put down a deposit on a new car. Personally I feel rather short changed, while this site may not have broken down any boundaries or been the voice of world peace, it has been around for over three years and kept by a dedicated writer.

Saturday 19th November 2005

Got up early this morning (well I have been slipping into a lazy state over the past few weekends) and headed into town. With all the redevelopment taking place (for the uniquely named 'Eden' Project) this is not as simple as it once would have been. My usual car park has now become a major work site and it was only today that it became seriously apparent to me. I parked my car to the east of the town centre and walked in. This journey should have taken me five minutes, but with all the work going on, it took over fifteen, having to walk around, as to avoid all the roads that have been closed off areas. Funnily enough I thought to myself that in less than three years, I will be staring at a well known department store. By 2008, I will have hoped that my life itself, like my hometown, has changed beyond recognition.

By the time I got back from town, the rest of the family were awake, so I retired to my room, to watch some Saturday morning television before going back to the living room to watch the match. Captain Scarlet was on, but to be honest, I have never really got into the new CGI animated series, although the use of hand to hand combat (at times quite graphic!) has been refreshing. I switched over to BBC1 to find TOTP Reloaded (weren't you called TOTP Saturday in a previous life?) but for a change, the majority are positive about the re-branding. I have only seen the show briefly over the past few years. So bear with me here. One of the final segments on the show is a quick fire questioning of one of the guests. This week it was Rhianna. During which, Sam (failed Pop Idol come presenter) sang the chorus to the song by a long forgotten boy band. It struck an instant chord with me and I had to get hold of it. To be honest, I do not remember the short lived band that well. Then again, many bands came and went (much like companies during the dot com boom and bust) in 2000. Some hunting around the internet, has providing only one useful posting, linking images of the band members and what some are up to now. While I would never condone the use of the artist name in the title of a track, 'Love On The Northern Line' may be very cheesy, it is somewhat catchy and fun. I am sure the stats over on Last FM tell a similar story. The chances of finding your own true love from Morden to Edgware (or High Barnet) are extremely low, even if no scientific studies have been carried out.

Continuing with the theme of music, I wanted to elaborate on a topic that may have been uncovered in the debate so far. For as long as I can remember, I have rarely liked debut singles by bands. Of course there are exceptions to this rule, but they are few and far between. Today, I can bring you two fine examples. We've mentioned the young starlet from Barbados already. Rihanna's first single was the catchy 'Pon De Replay' but it did little for me. It didn't have the melody and lyrical substance. Then I hear her second single, a smooth groove number, called, "If It's Loving That You Want" with a catchy chorus. Her performance on TOTP this morning was very good, although perhaps does not give the same flavours as the video. Another example is the recent number one by the Pussycat Dolls, which I actually quite quickly grew to hate. Even now, I do not understand the concept of the band, if they are fronted by one person, what is the purpose of the mediocre backing singers? Leaving that to once side, their second single, 'Stick With You', a soft gentle ballad to be released on the same day as the Rhianna single (28th November). I have to admit I'm fall for these romantic numbers quite easily but there is a time and place for this genre of music, particularly in my life. Others may feel this is just a big marketing experiment, cooked up by a big label executive. Image is nothing. Music is everything. The songs stay forever, it is the artist and moment that are gone for good.

Friday 18th November 2005

Let me take you back to June, 27th June to be exact. In that posting I mentioned Merdach Taylor. I would like to apologise for making a somewhat understandable mistake. The name of the soca artist, is actually Mesdach. Until last night I only had a sixty second preview clip of the song. Thankfully, a fruit juice in turbo charged pro edition was able to find the full song I was looking for. The format itself is something worthy of talking about, but let me first concentrate on the music. With Trinidad & Taboga through to the World Cup in Germany, Five Live (on their 606 programme on Wednesday evening) were quick to discover their nickname (and follow in the footsteps of the Reggae Boys from France 1998). Well, Soca Warriors have finally made it and the party begins in June. So, to get myself in the mood, a small preview of the soundtrack, that will undeniable be next summer. Oh yeah, the song title is 'Shut Up'.

Talking of football, let me explain the events of Friday afternoon. When yet another bombshell was dropped in the world of soccer. My colleague in the IT department, proclaimed to the office that Keane had just walked out of United. He had the news brought straight to his desktop, thanks to Sky Sports. I went over to BBC News my standard homepage in Firefox. Indeed it was true. Within a few seconds, Daniel all the way from the Far East flashed up. He was in a state of shock at the news, unable to comprehend that another midfield heavy weight had left the most famous club in the world. My words to him were simple. Blog. A few minutes passed and he explained he had updated his weblog with the latest. Sure enough, (when I got home to check) he had. To be honest, I can't say that I am that surprised. It has been on the cards for several months and Man Utd major drop in form was perhaps the final straw. In any case, I'm looking forward to the weekend. There is the lunchtime game between Arsenal and the Wigan (refered to by Daniel, as the big pretenders!).

Friday 11th November 2005

Been over a week since I last added an entry. To be honest, there has been little going on to warrant a posting. Although, Friday has always been my day to look back and reflect on the past week. DG over on his blog has been doing some heavy analysis on every aspect of his online journal. This got me thinking. Do I really still need a blog? Although my popularity has been growing steadily over the past year, my personal enthusiasm has been at times waning.

My one and only Carling Cup match (Worthington Cup, as it was known then!) was in September 1998 at Adams Park. Wycombe entertained visitors from the North East. The Middlesborough side including Paul Gascoigne, the main draw for the crowd full of families. Towards the end of this month, I will be going to my second League Cup match, Arsenal v Reading. Thankfully tickets went on sale to Red members this morning at 9.30am and I was lucky enough to secure my seat. I am looking forward to seeing some of the younger players on the fringes, knocking on the door for first team action.

Another weekend, with very little planned. There are of course, various international friendlies taking place and no top flight domestic football until next weekend. Upgrading the Media Centre software on my XBox, although, as Sippy has already told me, there is little difference with the release from early October. The most annoying aspect of the handful of recent releases has been that I have not been able to access the Internet via the black box. Those of you not familiar with the technology will be intrigued to know that Microsoft have finally placed a computer at the heart of the home entertainment system. You can view the latest movie trailers direct from Apple, read movie synopsis on IMBD and check out the forecast for the next four days via the Weather Channel. Hopefully, tomorrow I can fix this problem and get my connection online!

Last night, for the first time in ages, I turned my back on the computer and went to read a book. I have neglected reading, ever since I left college and while at University, just read the compulsory set texts. When I was growing up, particularly in my pre-teen years I was constantly reading. Perhaps not the quality literature that my English teacher would have liked, but nevertheless engaging my mind. Since I left college, I have become rather lazy and the only reading I do is e-mails at work and websites. How pathetic is that! I did try to start reading again, in June last year, but soon gave up. Preferring to sleep on the train into London, rather than concentrate on reading at such an unholy hour.

Friday 4th November 2005

Winter nights, for as long as I can remember have meant European football on the TV and eating ice cream. Rather a strange combination, I admit but it has become part of the football fortnight in my household. Champions League is the elite club competition in the world, with some of the greatest players in the world, taking part in the most exciting knock out competition ever seen. Both Tuesday and Wednesday night saw mixed fortunes for English clubs in the competition. I, of course was only interested in the mighty Arsenal, hoping to keep alive their 100% record in the competition and book our place into the last 16. From the kick off, you knew the night belonged to the Gooners. Even if at times, there were some nervous moments. Particularly in the second half. Yet, Henry and Van Persie (what else does this youngster need to do to get a start?) got the goals in a professional workman like performance. Reyes looked lively out on the left and was back to his best. Hopefully he will be able gain in confident, with a decent run out in his favoured position. Hopefully the next few EPL games (I've been speaking to Daniel too often to start using his English Premier League abbreviation) will see an improved run of our form (particularly on the road) as we begin to make up some ground on Chelsea.

Yesterday was a good day for me. Thursdays tend to go either way. Sometimes they are dull, boring, hectic and uncomfortable and you long for the moment to get into the car and drive home. Yesterday was different, I took the day by the scruff of the neck and get things done. There is always something satisfying to achieve your goals, no matter how little. In my dreams I live the life of someone else. The sun always shines and the sky is bright blue. Then, when I wake up I find myself sitting in my car, in traffic, heading for another day in the office. The only reminder of my daydream, is the pure pop playing on the stereo. What I must learn to do is not tempt fate. Even during my good moods (which are few and far between) I must keep focus on the things that really matter.

It takes a blog (of all things) to capture the mood of the nation. The return of the Mitchell Brothers was minor news in my household, as we are hardcore Eastenders fans. Yet, sometimes you wonder how reality mimics art, away from the spotlight of Albert Square. Is this purely extra publicity for the show, or are the successful women behind hard men, coming back to do some harm? People constantly wonder why I am glued to this soap and why I have been this way for several years. Sure, I would agree that some of the storylines have not been gripping over the past few years, but that is not the reason I watch. There are actually two reasons I watch (both kindly interconnected). Firstly the whole soap puts my own life into relief. Things are never as bad for me as they are over in Walford. Secondly, I enjoy watching losers (or as Stacey Slater put it this week, 'waster') such as Gary Hobbs and Ian Beale. They are highly entertaining and such a joke. Then you realise that they do truly exist and at times, may feature in your own life.

Monday 31st October 2005

Boy, was it dark tonight. Walking to my car, I noticed, an eerie cold silence in the air. After all it was Halloween, but the reality of winter finally hit me, as I drove home. The time change to GMT usually takes a while to adjust to. However, this year I find myself automatically climatised to the new schedule. Even if others are against. Can you believe that it is nearly November already? For those of you reading this, it must be November already. Really not all the doom and gloom that my favourite Newsblog makes out.

Quick recap of my weekend. On Saturday night I watched the Sky Premiere, The Day After Tomorrow, with my cousin. He had already seen it but proclaimed a 'must see'. Although perhaps based on some scientific body of evidence, is a far fetched story on the possibility of climate change and how it will affect the world. I have tended to watch these disaster movies on the small screen, rather than at my local multiplex. While they are entertaining, they are rather far fetched in places although the solid human element made it worth watching. Quaid will never been one for action but he does pull off the courageous Dad role, perfectly. The ending however is rather rushed, as you watch the build up to a climatic moment, which when it comes, is not as much unbelievable as wholly unpredictable. The use of CGI is impressive and the Vice President has an uncanny resemblance to real life Vice President, Dick Cheney . There is also the great blend of British actors, including Ian Holm, whom I would meet again, another day. Overall, great TV movie, nothing more, nothing less.

Ever since I saw the trailers, I wanted to go and watch Nicholas Cage in Lord of War. On Sunday evening, I went over to the Odeon in Uxbridge, to watch the movie with my cousin. I was left shocked and horrified by what I saw. I had expected an action comedy (or so I was led to believe by the trailer). Instead, I was served the grim reality of war and the constant question of morality (which goes unanswered by the movie itself). A great cast, with Cage in an inspiring and unique role, supporting by some great actors, including Leto and Holm. The subject is well addressed and perhaps never really studied to this depth by the mainstream movie going audience. Towards the middle, it becomes somewhat darker and almost satanic than I could have hoped for, but if this is an idea, to get me thinking, I respect the agenda of the director. Perhaps the best quote appears at the end of the movie, when after everything, you discover that nothing is ever what it seems. The UK movie poster was nothing in comparison to the US version, look closely.

Saturday 29th October 2005

Site went down during the early hours of Monday morning, but I did not discover the fact that my site was down until late on Monday evening. Exceeded my monthly bandwidth allowance (again) after only the other week, giving myself a top up of 200mb for the cost of Ł7. This time around, I decided against shelving out further money on top-ups. The site bandwidth would be reset on 00:00 on Tuesday 1st November and I can wait until then. Suppose, these gives me an opportunity to clean up the pages behind the scenes.

The first movie I saw from the collection was Team America: World Police. Funny enough, this was a film my Dad had wanted to go to see at the cinema with me last summer. Thankfully I turned him down. As you might expect, Trey Parker (the creator of South Park) is vulgar, tasteless, controversial and politically incorrect. However, the movie is entertaining (even if somewhat predictable) with an all star cast, some great songs and hilarious spoof movie send ups. It everything that you would never expect to see in a Gerry Anderson production.

After two days training, it was back to work with a bang. Although I was glad for the return to normality. Routine is a key component of my life and I hate being off the beaten track. My two adventure, has been documented, to some extent, over on the other boring work blog. We are busy, but at times I find myself staring at the screening, pondering which big task to undertake. Depending on which way you look at it, this is perhaps the most fortunate or unfortunate part of my position. When we are busy, there are plenty of things to be getting on with and you very much have to keep your wits about you. When we are quiet, you have to consider careful, which task you want to get yourself bogged down into.

Last weekend I saw the latest Citroen television commercial for the C3. This must be the third, if not forth television spot for multi-purpose super mini. This time around, the marketing people have put a spin on the classic sitcom, 'Happy Days'. When I was younger, I would watch the repeats on early Sunday mornings on Channel 4. Don't ask me why, but I had to download the theme tune and listen it full stereo glory. The most comprehensive site, detailing the birth, growth and final death of the show is over at SitComs Online. My favourite character? There is no need to ask, it could only be the Fonz. (Talk of the devil, it is his birthday tomorrow!) Anybody else have some great memories from this television show, which become an American institution. I think Paramount Comedy 2 still show some later episodes.

Although I knew little about the show prior to last weekend, I had heard many great things about the Seth MacFarlane animated series, The Family Guy. The series began to broadcast on BBC2 on Saturday nights, followed by the American Dad. The star of the former is Stewie, the little one year old baby with a strong equitinesiential British accent. By checking some of the fan sites, I have been able to discover that the screenings have started from series three, rather than series one. The first episode screened on the BBC was The Thin White Line. Originally screened on the other side of the water over four years ago. I might have to put the DVD for the earlier episodes onto my list for Santa. For the time being, apart from the show, I have the official blog to keep me company.

If I have started to mention the big red man already, it must mean we are drawing close. Over at Diamond Geezer, he is not letting the side down, as expected. Less than two months to go. For those of you, whom want a more precise countdown. Will I prepare myself slightly earlier this year? You can bet your bottom dollar, I will not.

Saturday 22nd October 2005

My Mum came into my room and told me I had a package, I got up and rushed to see what it was. I was not expecting anything. I had not purchased anything. I could not identify the handwriting, the post mark was RG2. Reading. While I pondered who had sent it, I ripped open the case to discover an old VHS tape. In 1999, I had lent my Moonwalker video to Pav. That was back when I was in college, and little did I know that I would not see the video again for six years. A house move meant that many things were transferred into the garage for temporary storage. However an old college friend had informed me that many of his belongings, lent to Pav had also disappeared into the black hole of his garage. Back in 2003, when I re-discovered Human Nature, I had a longing to watch the small segment on Moonwalker, but was resigned to the fact that I would never see the video again and would have to purchase the DVD.

Little did I know that this weekend would turn into apologises for delays and the return (and delivery) of goods long promised. Pav including with the tape, eleven movies on DVD. Some in DivX others, I assume in VCD quality. Most of the movies I have already seen over the course of the summer, but it great to be able fill in the time on a Sunday afternoon by putting on a movie. Talking of movies, we are currently in the middle of the Indiana Jones Trilogy, being shown on Sky Movies. While I have the DVD box set, I would still enjoy to watch the movie when screened by the satellite broadcaster. Thankfully, Saturday 5th November is deemed, Indiana Jones Day and all three movies will be screened back to back on Sky Movies 9 from 1pm. Great way to spend six hours. Plus that John Williams theme tune. Classic. My favourite is the final installment, for Marcus Brody steals the show!

While keeping a third eye on links to this site, I have noted an man from Delhi describing me as a Gooner on his imaginatively entitled blog, Musings of a meandering mind. Not sure if he deserves a link back yet, but I will keep an eye on his postings, which seem to be quite regularly. Slowly but surely I am building my exposure in the blogsophere.

Friday 21st October 2005

It felt like any other Friday, in any other week from the past ten months or so. Yet, there was a strange feeling hanging in the air. It started around 11.30am, inadvertent I had left my mobile on. Something I religiously avoid, but it was ringing and I did not want to answer, particularly as I was not expecting the call. As it happened, a Scottish man, from a garage in Aberdeen had left me a message about my car, currently in for repair. How wrong did he get the number he was trying to dial. My colleagues laughed, when I explained what had happened and they thought I should call back and authorise all work to be carried out, no expense spared, but my conscience and strong English accent told me this was not going to happen. Not sure how anyone could get my mobile number confused with another, it is far too easy to remember.

To begin with, I did not know what all the fuss was about and thought Chelski had just spent more stupid money on a player that would be spending most of the season on the bench. How wrong could I be? Essien has done everything (apart from score) and even though in my opinion does not justify his big transfer fee, has that special sparkle that makes him and Chelsea entertaining to watch. As a football fan it is great to see a young player bubbling with so much energy. The Guardian put it ever so well, the midfield maestro, pulling the strings and turning defence into attack. I look forward to his performance against Everton. I just hope the blue half of Mersey side can do better than the Liverpool collapse.

My Mum is not a football fan. I think she actually personally holds a deep hatred for the sport. Whenever midweek games are on, I have to pry the Sky remote from her, to be able to watch the Champions League. My Mum, of course would rather be watching the engaging and supposedly over melodramatic soap operas on Star Plus. Yet, to her credit she is able to sit through a full ninety minutes and ask intriguing questions about the game (i.e. which country are Arsenal playing today!?) As TH14 become a record breaker writing his name into the history books, my Mum's face was a picture as I tried to explain that he had just scored 186 goals for the Gooners. While there are those that will say we are a one man team, the fear of losing our main striker is unthinkable but not unimaginable. I remember when Petit and Overmars left for Barcelona and how I felt Arsene had made a mistake, yet in time he has proved that those were shrewd business moves. The statistics will tell a different story from the ball on a pitch on a Saturday afternoon. The moment this Frenchman picks up the ball, there is suddenly an air of expectation that the impossible is possible and you can feel (briefly) that sigh from the Highbury faithful.

A few years ago, I mentioned the DMU commercial spot, shown on ITV with the tag line, "Get DM Used to It". The marketing people have now released a completely puzzling commercial, featuring lego men (and women). I saw it last night during the ad break for Hollyoaks first look on E4. Someone should really sack the marketing man.

Several months ago, I requested an XBox game from my friend, Sippy. Tonight, I finally received it in the post. Why it had taken so long only Mr. B can explain. Firstly there was the lack of media. Then, house sitting and other activities meant he was unable to go down to the post office. Suppose I better do the decent thing and play the game. Just a shame, that a family friend told me it was rubbish last month and would take a few days to complete. Then again, we are talking about Teg here. I doubt it will ever see the inside of my XBox. If it does, it might a short lived experience, I will get bored after a few minutes.

Sunday 16th October 2005

We all hate losing. I have said that on numerous occasions (particularly last season). With Chelsea seemingly running away with the title, it makes for a very depressing weekend. Having been to see Arsenal play only a few weeks ago, I know that they have not been playing up to their high standards. Injuries aside, we expect much better from our team. We dominated possession against West Brom, but came up against a keep in great form and a team on the way back up. Arseblogger perhaps sums up the feeling from the terraces best. Thankfully, the next game is not to far away and gives the team an opportunity to prove themselves. Champions League Tuesday. We need to start scoring some goals and members of the squad need to start making a real name for themselves. Thankfully, you are only as good as your last 90 minutes, but the next 90 come around again, quite quickly.

Went to see the first feature length adventure of Wallace and Gromit at the Odeon in Uxbridge, last night. Great quality family fun. Always been a fan of the crackpot inventor and his k9 sidekick. I really enjoyed Chicken Run, which was again very unique. This story is perhaps there most daring to date and the new characters add to the suspense of the tale. Particularly, PC Mackintosh voiced by a well known comedian from Bolton. Well worth going to see, particularly if you have young siblings.

Have you seen the latest advert from HP for their standalone photo printer? It was shown at the cinema last night so I thought I would mention it here. You can't have missed it, as it has been played on television quite regularly. As I don't watch that much commercial driven television, I have seen it, so am quite confident that you have seen it too. For a gentle reminder, it can been seen over at Visit4Info. The music for the advert is 'Out Of The Picture' by The Robins, which I was finally able to obtain last night. The commercial, is very clever. Just a shame, that How Do They Do That? is no longer on the BBC to reveal how it is all done.

Friday 14th October 2005

Those outside the blogging community may find the idea of keeping an online journal, for the whole world to see, rather bizarre. It takes me time to put myself back into that mind set. Sometimes, I feel it is completely pointless. Yet, it takes only a quick browse of the archives and particularly my work log, when I discover that I have put to paper (or is that html) some of my most important experiences. Yet, it is not just the fact that these memories are on the page for one and all to read, but it is the way in which I have written the entries that is so amazing. At times, I take a step back in wonder at the quality of the writing. Did I really write that? This blog continues to grow in popularity and I am developing a modest level of link backs from other blogs, which I can now keep track of, thanks to Technorati.

If I had titles for my entries, this one would be called, 'Own Goal'. While I am sure, Daniel would be grateful for their introduction, I find titles too difficult and a barrier to letting my blog flow. Yesterday evening, I headed over to Maidenhead to meet up with some work colleagues. Well I say some, they are actually my colleagues on the helpdesk. Chris and Peter. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) my blog does not extend back to my college (or early University) years. Actually I should go back far as school, year 10 (1996-7) I would help run the Youth Centre with a friend every lunchtime. We would play pool and I was depressingly bad. At college, three years later I was worse. I can quite easily confirm that my last attempt of a pool games was late September 2000. Then one Saturday night I found myself in O'Reilly's with two of my new found University friends. Needless to say, I was pathetic. Fast forward five years, to last night. Personally I would have preferred to meet for a drink and then head over to the cinema. But Peter, had to twist my arm (along with Chris) to come to Racks and have a game (or two). For a while I thought I had put them off, but in the end, I gave in to the pressure and played a game. Absence from the game, had not made me any better. Actually it had most likely made me worse. Yet, as always, some beginners luck would work it's magic (in a strange way) and I would win the game. Space here for some corny line about how 'real' men make their own luck.

Always pre-book your tickets for the cinema. If that is the only message you take away from this web site. For as long as I can remember, I have always pre-booked my tickets for the cinema. Rarely do I bother to type up and pay on the door. Then again, the distances I travel to go to the cinema make it necessary. A walk down to the local Film Works will never do. So you can imagine our surprise as we entered screen 2, expected it to be quiet busy, but to find it completely empty. I had been to the cinema when it was relative quiet. An afternoon showing of the final Lord Of The Rings movie, back in late January 2004. This was the first time I would be at the cinema for a screening with a completely empty auditorium. However, three other guys turned up and took their own seats shortly after that thought went through my mind. Now the movie. I had high expectations. Perhaps too high.

There are so few football movies, that this had to break the mould and do something different. It does for the first forty minutes or so. But everything feels rather "orchestrated" in the favour of our star player, Munez. Will he truly achieve his dream and become a professional football player? There are several obstacles in the way, but surely the 'salsa' boy from LA (not Mexico) will have all his dreams come true! As a football fan, I suppose the movie tries to capture the magic moment of the game, an inspiration to so many people in the country (that it is close to a religion for some) Yet I think it tries too hard to capture that spilt second moment, which makes villains and heroes on the football pitch. This is something that can never been captured on film, because football is bigger than real life. The manager was an attempt to create a blend between Arsene Wenger, with a small mix of Sir Bobby Robson. A great tactician, but never the less willing to spend the time to nurture his younger players (and those older heads that have lost the way). It all works together briefly, and all the seeds are sown for the next two films. In conclusion, this could have been a great film, but I think the need to tell the stories off the field, got in the way of trying to get across the passion for the sport. There are plenty of plot holes and continuity errors (just read the message board over on IMBD. Putting these to one side, it is still entertaining and worth watching. Although, better on DVD in your own home, rather than an empty cinema in Berkshire on a Thursday night. Expect two further reviews for the second and third films, to be released over the next two years.

Sunday 9th October 2005

While perhaps my music tastes may not be to everyone's liking, I do have a great passion for cover singles. My views are quite clear cut. If you really must you need to follow some simple rules. Under no circumstances, simply 're-produce' the song. Revisit the song (as a friend recently put it to me) and put your own signature, style onto the track, in affect make it your own. In my humble opinion certain songs are far too sacred to be covered. Material by Michael Jackson, The Beatles and Elvis. To my disappointment yesterday morning, I watched wannabe rock band, Freefaller, and their disastrous attempt at Basket Case by Green Day. Now, this is a modern day classic, yet this mediocre boy band have completely wrecked the song, by literally shouting all over it. How can you tell a band are in trouble, when they have their name on a banner, on stage throughout the video. True artists, will let the music sell itself.

England qualified for the World Cup last night. Though their performance against Austria left much to be desired. Switching back to 4-4-2, the Three Lions looked like the away team for big patches of the game, particularly the second half. Yet, were able to hand on to the slender, one nil lead and go into the Poland game on Wednesday, with hope of a win to top the group. From the other qualifiers, Ghana and Ivory Coast have qualified and I look forward to seeing these teams in Germany next year. Although something tells me that Essien will perhaps be a (if not the only) star player in an very average Ghanaian team, compared with his world class team mates at Stamford Bridge. If we get a good draw in the group stage, I'm sure we can progress beyond the quarter final stage. England must make the semi-finals, considering the talent in the squad and the promise of 2006. The World Cup reminds me that this blog took the first few steps in June 2002, when I briefly mentioned some of the events taking place in Korea and Japan. This time around, expect more personal analysis, more photos, and links to other blogs, sharing in the World Cup dream.

Talking of football, finally got around to uploading my photographs from the Community Shield from August. They can be found on the photos page. Give me a few weeks and I will update and upgrade my entire photo gallery.

Wednesday 5th October 2005

Sunday came around quicker than I imagined, yet I still seemed to be working to a Sunday clock. I got up just before 9am, thinking I would have plenty of time to make it to the ground, meet up with Terry with time to spare before kick off. Well things got to a bad start, when I did not get Terry's mobile number. Never mind, hopefully he had noted mine and would be in touch. After spending some time watching music videos on Sky, I decided to get a move on. My first decision was to check the oil, water and tyres pressures on my car, assuming that I may have to go on a longer journey than planned. By the time I got ready and headed out of the door, it was nearly 11.30am and my train from Wycombe station was at 11:53am, would I make it in time? What most people forget is I'm a seasoned veteran when it comes to traveling by train and tube (something that will come up again). I had originally decided to travel from Chalfont & Latimer, but knew that with proposed engineering works, three major tube lines would be affected and it was safer bet to be closer to home, rather than the other side of the county. Boarding the train, I took my seat and looked up to see a bunch of Birmingham fans sitting opposite me, one of them shout, "Gooners". I looked backed and smiled. The usual questions about if I was going to the game and if we would make it on time on this train. I looked at my watch and explained we would have plenty of time. I then went on to explain the best route by tube. They decided to follow me, but I knew they would have to be quick to keep up. I was surprised they did not offer me a can of Carling as a token of thanks, but then later in the journey I discovered all the cans were empty, as the tower they were making, crashed onto the table. The journey was long, and another group of lads started to play music from a underpowered mp3 player and it showed. The train was packed for a Sunday lunchtime and the fact we arrived in Paddington instead of the customary Marylebone, meant I had to adjust my journey (only by two stops) to compensate. By the time I hit the Underground, the Arsenal fans started appearing. I wanted to make conversation, but everyone seem stuck in their own world. Perhaps, the fact our season has not been going quite to plan, has meant that there is little to cheer about. Liverpool doing us a favour in the final match of the weekend, would be a great benefit. The exit at Arsenal station, was busy as expected, but the walk upstairs, was quicker than I had expected. I was greeted by a strong police presence, before I was swallowed in a sea of red(currant). I was here. Finally after six years of waiting. My first Arsenal game, when I didn't have to beg, steal, borrow, or guilt trip someone into taking me or letting their tickets go. I had little time to take in the great North London atmosphere. Kick off was fast approaching and I had to quickly grab a programme from one of the sellers outside on Gillespie Road and head into the North Stand entrance. Through the turnstiles, I tried to savour each minor moment. My seat was towards the left of the upper tier on the North Bank. In line (just) with the outer pitch, so had a great view of the game. I was hoping, that all of Arsenal's goals would come in the second half, give me something to cheer about. My seat was 54 and owned (perhaps) by a Alan Read. To my left, a middle aged man, perhaps out to a football match with his thirty something daughter. To my right, there was a young girl around 14, with her father, enjoying a Premiership match for the first time. Yet across the North Bank (where I have always sat for my previous two Arsenal games) there is camaraderie between those friends, who come to every home game. How I wish I could say, "See you in a couple of weeks, Tom!". :( No time to think of the future, there was a match to watch, as the teams came out.

We play poorly, by our high standards. Our passing game, was great, but when it came to the final third, there was no body there to finish the job, take a shot. Cunningham was set off, early on and I thought that would drive us forward, but instead we just sat back and probed forward when we liked. When we were awarded a penalty (speculative, even in my biased opinion) I thought this was when the flood gates would truly open. Pires stepped up. I was confident after his last pen against the Ajax. He didn't look confident and Maik Taylor made yet another great save. A guy behind me, made the comment, that we are not going to score with a team full of midfielders and I agreed with him. At times frustrating to watch, I had to be patient, but we all expected more from our team, if we were serious about plugging the game between us and those Chelski Blues. Everyone was looking to make the final pass and not actually take it. Arsene knows. He made the changes, that would bring this game to life. Bergkamp came on, along with his fellow countryman, Van Persie. These were the changes that finally gave us the cutting edge. Further probing and, then a shot far out by Robin, gave us the lucky goal, we perhaps didn't deserve on the day for the football game. We needed to win, if only for the confidence of our team and our fans. I enjoyed the match, even if the performance wasn't vintage Arsenal. The best moment? Singing along to... "One Nil to the Arsenal..." while the clock had a few minutes to tick away.

It is important to think of of those less fortunate than ourselves. Even if they come from the richest, most powerful country in the world. The most striking statistic, for me is the fact that our country, the United Kingdom is used to describe the level of devastation caused by the Katrina hurricane. While perhaps, some may consider it too little too late, I feel that in these circumstances, every little helps. James' performance of Human Nature, as seen the Dangerous Tour in 1992 was amazing. The perfect song, to end the perfect weekend. It has gone full circle. But is this chapter on my life truly closed? I think, it is only just beginning.

I Get A High Whenever
You're Around Sweeping From
My Head To My Toes
I, I Gotta Get My Feet Back
On The Ground
'Cause You Make Me Go
Out Of My Way
Crossing The Line
Making Me Say
What I Have In Mind

Sunday 2nd October 2005

What are your ingredients for the perfect weekend? I suppose, it really boils down to the type of person you are. A lazy weekend with nothing on the agenda, may be the best way to spent your time after a busy week in the City. Some may prefer the weekend away? Others may prefer something out of the ordinary, spa break or time in the gym. Whatever you do, I am sure you try to the make the most of your time. I had already built this weekend up, in my previous posting and although it may not have done all the things I wanted to do, it turned out much better than expected.

Friday, the starting point of every weekend. While I had proposed to go and watch the first in the football trilogy with my work colleague Chris, by Thursday I knew that I would not be going to the cinema, if out at all. I had been asked to collect my cousin from Hayes, which meant the 10.30pm viewing, which of course was far to late, if you include the journey time from Reading. Then, on Friday afternoon, as my previous entry details, I was dragged into go out. At the time I did not realise, but it meant that my entire weekend would be spent out of the house. I literally would come home to sleep and then get up and go out again. Believe me when I say this, been several years since I ever did anything as rock 'n' roll. Looking back now, I need to share with you a split second moment, of my drive to Henley. While I do not doubt my car has had some electrical problems in the past and more recently, a strange moment as I pulled away on the second segment of the A404. Those familiar with this road, will know this particular stretch is unlit, so you are literally driving in the dark. I was overtaking some smaller vehicles, knowing well that my exit slip road was not too far in the distance. My eyes fixed firmly on the road (and car) ahead, in the blink of an eye, my lights went out and came back on. My eyes switched to my speedo, which had been accelerating past 60, but was 'reset' and climbing again from 20mph. Had I just been hit by some strange electrical storm? Or had Dr. Emmett Brown, been working on my car, while it was parked at work? It didn't make sense, I was no where near 88 mph. (My RoadPilot, confirmed that...) I have had power outages before, but the whole cars grinds to a halt, but somehow on this night, the Gods were looking down at me with comforting eyes. I do not want to imagine, what could have happened, if my car had stalled and I had lost complete control.

Saturday, I woke up slightly later than usual, around 9am, and got ready. I knew I had a few errands to complete before heading towards Harrow. As the redevelopment plans for my hometown, Wycombe are now in full swing (although, only some of the actually work is visible) my weekend car park has closed. The remaining options are limited and expensive. I parked over in the Sainsbury's Car Park, and got a fantastic space, less than 10 car spaces in. (Great luck considering it is a four floor multistory) My weekend was continuing on the same note it had started on. Time and luck were for a chance on my side. As usual (and as a bloke) I had already predetermined what I was looking for. Even my trip around the town centre had been walked through in my mind earlier that morning. Within thirty minutes or so I had completed my purchases and was on my way home.

By the time I hit the M40, I was running over thirty minutes late, but then I had always been one to arrive fashionably late. While the day had been sunny, the moment I had driven out of my housing estate, the heavens opened and the heavy rain poured down. The party started at 1.30pm, so arriving later would not be a big problem. Yet I had a few issues. I had to find the place, plus what if I arrived unfashionably late, to find all the other guests there already? This was the dilemma I faced while I cranked up the stereo and put my foot down on the short motorway journey, my big A-Z of London, on the passenger seat. The song I had been listening to was a cover of Nick Kamen's 1990 minor hit (remixed last year) "I Promised Myself" foolishly thinking it would be the theme for the weekend, but in fact I could not be further from the pulse. By the time I pulled off the A40, I was stuck in heavy traffic on the Target Roundabout, but it did not bother me. It gave me a chance to double check my route and confirm (in my head at least) that I knew where I was going. I was stuck in traffic for over twenty minutes and watched the minutes click away on my dash, humming along to the music. My nerves suddenly came alive as I pulled onto the roundabout and off at the first exit. Further delays as two lanes of traffic, slowly converges into one. Then, as the road ahead cleared, I was able to pick up some speed. Then, as I drove past the road, I realised that I had been here before, while trying to locate, the secret base of my superhero friend, Mighty Mouse. Pulling down the street, I crawled, trying to read the numbers on the front of the houses, while also trying to observe the highway code and watch out for cars ahead and behind me. When I realised the road beared to the left and I had to go right, I pulled off, what has now become a customary, Michael Knight, "KITT" move and swung my Punto (no Trans AM, I'm afraid) around to get to the right side of the road. Finally, I found the house and turned my car around in a side street. Parking up, I took a long deep breath, he goes nothing.

For a quiet, rather reserved and shy person, I have done quiet well on the friends front. (Or so I tell myself, if you base this on my MSN contact list!) I suppose, I just enjoy meeting new, exciting people from all walks of life. This just proves that if you are yourself, you can go from being on the outside, looking in to being part of something special. Back in early January, I could only have dreamt of such a moment. Those with a big heart will always hold you close, just a case of proving your friendship and repaying that faith. Sure at the beginning of this journey, I wanted something very different, but knowing what I know now. Knowing the politics and the history, I know that would never have been possible. Settling for just friendship is perhaps an understatement. For I know deep in my heart, it means more than anything else that could have, never will have been.

Meeting other MJ fans will always been an education. Even in my DeLorean club, there are some strange people (one whom dresses up as Marty at all the conventions, but I will save that for another blog entry). Those that had made the journey to Santa Maria to make their voices heard, loud and clear, deserve respect, if not more credit. Saturday night, gave me an opportunity for me to meet two of these lucky (or very sad, depending on your point of view) individuals. Sharing photos and the crazy stories from the trial, I was inspired, by the collective spirit of unity of these people from different spots across the globe, brought together by the trial of one man, one entertainter. People often say that it is the characters in our lifes that make it so interesting and add that sparkle to the day. At work, I have one such person, in the finance department, but here, once again I discovered the strange pairing of this double act, from Manchester and Glasgow respectively. I recall reading an article several years ago, stating that there were some facts set in stone. Whereever you go in the world, you will find, McDonalds, Starbucks and MJ fans. Perhaps, that sums up the situation. The brand itself maybe flagging, but the brand loyalty, continues to grow.

Friday 30th September 2005

I got in just after 1am, so technically this entry should be filed under Saturday 1st October, but it is this is the perfect way to end the month of September. Why am I on the computer so late? As mentioned earlier, I was hoping to go to see the movie Goal! with my colleague Chris, but other family plans (on my side) got in the way and I had to reschedule. Having been sent down the long and winding road of at least two major guilt trips, I succumbed to the nagging and agreed to go out for a few hours. My ideal venue would have been Reading, but as Chris lives in my old college town, Henley, I decided it was time to lay a few ghosts to rest. The last time I had been out in Henley, I was a rather stupid 6th Former, with the world at his feet, and the real world a minor prospect, far far away in the distance. How times have changed. Coming back, was strange. Of all my time in Henley, I feel I did little to enjoy the nightlife there, and was lured by my friends to the bright lights of Reading.

Henley has changed beyond recognition, but it has been over five years. Yes, even I was shocked to discover it had been that long. The town has less of the quiet, tranquil Oxfordshire overtones. I am glad I came out to chat to my work colleague outside of work. It is only outside of the office environment, the suit, the tie, the constant phone calls you realise that deep down, we are actually just good friends. There is more common ground, than just the interest in football, SWOS and Championship Manager.

Sometimes, people say I'm too shy, too reserved and too cautious of what other people might thing and how they might respond. Sure this is true, for I have learnt harsh lessons, that sometimes the best option is to say nothing. Rather than fill the gaps with nonsense, or tall tales of conquests (which no one can confirm or deny, but generally put down to twisting of the truth). Thankfully, I have been perhaps more honest these past few hours, that in the previous nine. That is no exaggeration. Sometimes, it is better to do what you need to do at the time. Rather than carry out the constant analysis of your actions to wait until the deed is done. At the end of the road, you will know that you can put this down to experience. The whole process becomes much easier, if the person you are talking to has encountered a very similar experience and made both the wrong and right decisions.

The Green Day rock ballad (if there is such a genre category) requests to the listener, Wake Me Up When September Ends. It has and as I awake from my dream, I discover that tomorrow, after nearly 10 months of waiting, hoping, praying, my own dream will become true. Perhaps this ending was not what, truly my heart longed for, but it is a step in the right direction. A realisation, that if I cannot have exactly what I want, I can still have something, which is better than nothing. I should look back at the amount of progress I have made in a relatively little amount of time and how I have gone from a nobody to a somebody, in the eyes of a complete stranger.

Wednesday 28th September 2005

You know me, by now. I liked to keep everything standard. My MSN screen name, like much of my life is kept simple and straightforward. When at home, I am 'Teg'. During office hours, while I am at work, my screen name is 'Andrew'. This may seen bland and boring, as now you can change more than just your screen name. You can add a 500 character (with the right software patch) personal message. Most people make use of this personalised facility (unlike me) and I tend to only see the personal messages, thanks to MSN Plus! which allows me to rename my entire contact list, thanks to Custom Names. (You can read more over on my work blog.) However, the fact I use the function does not mean the whole purpose of individual names is lost on me. They have, this week at least become an inspiration. During the course of my work day yesterday, I note contacts coming online. Then, at times, I want to do a quick check up on who is online and see if there is anyone I can sneak a quick chat with. Terry, was online, as he is most afternoons, but his status was set to busy, so I decided it best not to disturb him and ask about the Champions League, that night. I will assume, with a well educated guess that you do not know Terry, so let me give a quick background. People tend to do two things with their MSN screen name. Use it as an outlet for the latest news with them (or their chosen subject, hobby or sport) as well as display lyrics to reflect the way they are feeling at that given moment of time. Even my colleague, Chris is at it. Counting down to the kick off to next years World Cup. (Only 250 odd days to go!) Yesterday afternoon, I read the lyrics and it took me some time to actually register the name of the song. Then, when the song finally sank into my head, I couldn't get the soft sweet vocal out of my system. I had to listen to the song. While over half the way home, I gave in and switched my CD to the MP3 CD which I had listened to on Friday evening (see below). As I expected, the song was not on this album, so I had to do without and settle for something else. (Actually, to settle my paranoia, I looked into the content of the Greatest CD and discovered the following, the big 3-0.

Getting home, I busied myself with the important tasks at hand, dinner, getting a comfortable seat on the sofa and checking my e-mail. (Yes, in that order to!) Sacrificing Eastenders for some quality European football. Around 11pm, feeling sleepy, I retired to my bed, listening to Radio Five, but still knowing deep down inside there was a restless young man inside. I put up with it for a while, trying to drift off, while Anita and guests discussed the Conservative leadership race, while at the Labour Party Conference in Brighton. Yet, I was playing little attention to any of that. Then it suddenly hit me again, the song was back in my head. I had to listen to it, I had to feed this hunger. Thinking about it for several minutes, I finally summoned up the energy to get out of my warm bed and hunt around my room to make this magical moment, happen. Getting the disc two from the album, was easy, while I tried to recall the last time I had listen to the songs. Must be over two years, if not more. Little time to ponder on that, I scrambled under the desk to plug in my cordless headphones. I wanted to listen to the song quite loud, and the headphones would help produce a much better atmosphere. With everything plugged in, I was literally wired for sound. So I rushed back into bed, and warmed myself up again. The moment I had waited all day for had finally come. Using the remote, I switched to track 9, it had gone past 12am, the singer was right after a short ten second music intro, "Another day had gone ...I'm still all alone..."

After listening to You Are Not Alone, by Michael Jackson from disc two from the 1995 HIStory album, I switched to Mini Disc. This was my copy of the Invincible CD and I went straight to Speechless, which is track eight. It was an ideal way to continue the soft quiet moment, in the still of the night. For a while I drifted with the lyrics of the songs and the soft soothing vocals. Very difficult to describe how I felt, perhaps not myself. Perhaps for a few minutes, someone else, outside of my own body and mind. Then, as the music fades and Michael speaks the closing lines, I lie in bed, starring at the dark ceiling above me. I was back in reality, back home. How I longed to be somewhere else. Finally I had listened to the song that had been brought back to my attention by my new friend on MSN. The moral of the story is simple, never underestimate the power of MSN Messenger. The song has given me a chance to look back at myself and the journey of the past nine months. Where have I been and where am I going? The honest truth is I do not know. The most difficult feeling to bear is the feeling of, at times being the only one in the world, with no one else out there to understand.

With such a public presence online, anyone can find me online if they want to. The dark side of this argument is that people whom you thought you had left behind many many years ago, can suddenly reappear at the drop of a hat. This is not ideal, particularly if you have friends and family you no longer associate with and have no plans to reconcile those broken relationships. While I tend to take the stance that the door is always open, it can quite easily be slammed shut, whenever I see fit. Perhaps people need to realise that this blog is for me in the first instance (yes, I am selfish and damn proud of it!) and not an invitation for them to think I want them to get in touch. Then again, some other people tend to just have that attractive personality which brings such visitors to their site.

Sunday 25th September 2005

Generally speaking, my weekends are below average and tedious. Yet, every once in a while, I have a big weekend (usually around once a month) when several events fall on to the same weekend schedule. Next weekend is a case in point. Originally, it was just another dull weekend, until Terry (of Gooner's World fame!) messaged me on MSN to let me know there were tickets for Arsenal versus Birmingham in October. I thought about it for a few seconds, but went ahead with the purchase (even if the North Bank ticket was perhaps slightly overpriced!). A voice in my head told me that this might be the only opportunity I have to visit Highbury before it is redeveloped expensive flats. My tickets arrived on Thursday (see below, click on them to be taken to my FlickR page) and this is my first Arsenal Premiership tie since Derby in 1997. Yes, it truly has been that long. The last time I was at Highbury was for the FA Cup tie against Blackpool in December 1999. I am looking forward to the match, mainly to see my favourite player, Dennis for perhaps the last time in the Arsenal red (currant) shirt. I was considering taking my digital camera, but have decided against it. I want to enjoy the day as a football fan, rather than a noisy tourist. The camera will stay at home. All the memory making can wait for the final game at Highbury against Wigan.

Of course, the weekend officially begins on Friday at 6pm sharp, as I make my way to the car, on goes the stereo and I play a pre-arranged Friday night song, to kick of two days of freedom from work. Yet, this feeling is usually just an artificial high, for I rarely go out on a Friday or actually do anything more interesting than record the week that was, on my blog. This Friday will be different. Not been to the cinema for a while, so going to see Goal! on Friday with my football mad colleague, Chris. Try to avoid the marketing machine on this occasion and watch the film after being in the dark. I am looking forward to it, perhaps because it will show us all, to believe in the power of dreams. While cleaning the car, yesterday afternoon, I had KISS blasting from the stereo. During a commercial break, the voice of Honda, proclaimed how our dreams are meaningless unless we act on them. I thought about it for a few passing moments, then came to the conclusion, such idle thoughts would have to wait for my next life.

With Autumn, well upon us, even if September has tended to be sunny with a cool chill in the air, what I have got to look forward to the next few months, before the turn of the year. Champions League football, watching my poor performance in the work Fantasy Football Super League continue and hoping, praying for Chelski to be battered in the Premiership. Their time will come. José will be left lost for words and hopefully this will be the slow spiral downwards in fortune. What a strange state of affairs? Instead of egging on my team to victory, I have resorted to wishing defeat on our greatest rival. Not very sportsman like?

There is nothing new on television that I really care to watch. I stick to my standard diet of Eastenders, live football and slice of current affairs. The charts too, have little to offer and inspire. Yet, I have still found the time to update my Audio page with the latest count of my world famous MP3 collection. Although I will be in discussion with my legal team, whether it is wise to publish such an article, with the knives already drawn. Life continues, as it always will. Nothing new to report, I'm afraid. I wish there was, I wish my life was much more exciting than this blog makes out, but the truth is, there is little to read between the lines. But the last two updates are dedicated to Sippy, someone who realises the important things in life away from the computer. Just a shame I don't see life in the same light. Does fatherhood really do that to you?

Friday 23rd September 2005

A year ago, I was working in London. While this should be common knowledge, it may be a pleasant surprise to those of you coming to my blog after searching for mp3s on Google. Last weekend, I was in the capital to help a friend rebuild their laptop. En route, I stopped off at my old stomping ground and past the offices that I had called, 'work' for five months in 2004. Lunchtimes would be spent within the confines of St. Paul's Cathedral (when it was open) perhaps one of London's greatest landmarks, if only for the city skyline.

At the time I did not have the time to capture the moment, but on a beautiful mid September afternoon, I was able to finally store the image. Picture the scene if you will. Your first summer in the real world, drawing past, as you sit and take in the people around you. A blatant mixture of tourists and busybody management times. One group in a slightly bigger hurry than the other. In the middle of this, I find myself a bench and eat a quick sandwich and drink. A short rest bite before I go back to get on with my job. Things had, if I recall, taken a turn for the worse and I was under pressure to get as many computers rollout as possible. Time was not on my side and more a foe, then friend. Looking back I wish I had made more of time in the city, our capital. Who knows, maybe my time will come around again, and I will get one more chance.

Do you remember, Wagon Wheels? Depending on your age and location in the world, this should instantly bring back lunchtimes at school, munching on this marsh mellow centred jewels, which were actually, biscuits.

On Tuesday (13th) last week, my colleague through one at me, which (as you would expect) acrobatically caught! I snapped a quick picture with my 6230 camera phone, before I took that trip down memory lane at lunchtime. The packaging may have changed, just slightly but the product under the wrapper, is thankfully still the same. Meanwhile share your memories of this classic playground chocolate snack, by leaving a comment!

Usually I am clued up with the dates, but unfortunately I cannot remember, so may have to come back to you with an exact date (after crawling the archives). It has been several months, if not years since I had my last MJ moment. To the uneducated, my MJ moments are as follows. My mood will swing in a direction, when the music of only one man, can save me. When I got my MP3 CD car stereo, in December 2002, one of the first MP3 CDs I burnt was a compilation of Michael Jackson songs, along with a small directory devoted to the number ones of the Beatles. The last time I remember listening to this CD, I was stuck in heavy track on the M25 (just before junction 20). Some kids were in a people carrier ahead and laughing at me bobbing along to Beat It and other classics. Yet, I had no care in the world. (Yes, this is a different Teg to the one you might in the street). Fast forward to early evening, this Friday. I was screaming on the by-pass hitting 85, trying to catch up with a turquoise green Polo (just a 1.4 mind!) We hit heavy traffic and I knew it was time to change the record, literally. It was time for Michael. I changed discs, while changing gear and keeping four eyes on the road. Negotiating this rather minor obstacle, I sat back to listen to wall to wall MJ classics. First came Beat It, then Billie Jean. I longed for Unbreakable, but for a change, my telepathic stereo was not in tune with my tired mind. In the end I had to settle for (if you can ever use such a phrase when it comes to the King Of Pop) The Way You Make Me Feel. Blasting at high volume as I pulled onto the drive, I realised it was Friday and the weekend was mine to make or break.

While listening to Jackson in the car, I came to the sudden realisation that this man, this human being is a genius. The songs are over twenty years old and yet they sound so fresh and modern, it is unreal. Most artists in their nature, have a flaw. You have to be in a certain type of mood to listen to them. Hence, perhaps there is a time and place for Coldplay, James Blunt and their derivatives. Yet, somehow it does not matter your mood, frame of mind, time of day, weather, season, home or away, Michael has the magic to make the moment special. Unfortunately I did not get a chance to give the collection the time it deserves. While I do recall, Sunday afternoons spent just driving my local town, listen to greatest entertainer of all time. One thing I know is true, he will be back to retake his crown. It does not take a rocket scientist, to come to the conclusion that this artist is...

Friday 16th September 2005

What a week? For all the fuel crisis (what crisis?) comment, and the dilemma's of running of diesel and trying to get to work, step over there but please come back. I will make sure there is something interesting here for you to read.

I wish I had kept a blog or at least a written diary during the fuel crisis of 2000. Only my college friends from the time knew what I went through that week. Thinking of it that way, means that I'm excluding all my new found friends from University and beyond. Strange how we develop relationships constantly through out our lives and that very few friends from our early days last out to the end. I enjoy meeting new and exciting people and hope this habit never stops. Five years on, I was no longer an 18 year old trying to keep calm on the forecourts, instead a full fledged adult, working (there are those that feel I do no real work!) trying to put off the inevitability of having to stop for diesel. How the tables have turned.

Talking of tables turning, I have find myself in the amazing position, which eleven months ago, I could not have dreamt up. while I cannot go into the full details, let me for the time being leave you with the following. You know you are good, when people work hard to convince you to come back.

Have you been watching Eastenders? While the adventures on Albert Square ended quite dramatically on Friday evening (well done Tony, great job on the scripting!) I would like to take you back to Tuesday. The date of my last post. People often ask me why I am such a religious watching of the BBC soap. Sure, the main melodramatic story lines (which the press gang all write about) are my biggest reason for catching each episode. Ye it is also the minor characters, sub-plots and comic entertainment. For example, we have seen the recent introduction of José and his Salsa class, attended by the old guard (Mo, Pat, Pauline and Yolande). I fall to the floor in laughter at sight of Essex lad (from Dagenham, apparently) putting on a strong fake Spanish / Latino accent, to impress the pupils of his class. (Is this a slight dig at JM over of Stamford Bridge?) Unfortunately, I have a feeling that this is the last we will see of dear José. The script writers tend to focus on the storylines that pull in the mass punters and not just the entertaining, comical moments, which make you laugh out loud with the rest of your family. As promised, I grabbed a screenshot from the ombnibus, screened this Sunday afternoon on BBC1.

As you know, I am (was) a big fan of Britney Spears. (Based purely on her music talents, of course!) While I have not enjoyed watching her fall from grace, pop princess to rock chick, I still enjoy her music from the middle part of the last decade. Most people know, that my favourite song is "Born To Make You Happy". Not just for the song, but the fact that when that was in the charts (a number one), I was experiencing the best time of my life. On Wednesday morning, stuck in traffic on the by-pass and hoping that my car would make it the office, I switched to the CD changer and on came the song. The perfect way to cheer me up and get me humming along to the deep meaningful, moving lyrics. I knew the birth of her first child was imminent, but as it transpired, you are the only one within my heart. What next for Spears? Something tells me there is no way that motherhood will make her take a step out of the limelight. Let us just hope it gives the inspiration to go back to best, writing radio friendly pop songs that will be come the soundtrack to my late twenties, just as they have been to my late teenage years.

Tuesday 13th September 2005

Where were you at 18:56 this evening? Perhaps doing something useful, like driving around your local town looking for a petrol station with juice. Well, while I do not doubt your intentions, you missed a defining moment. Finally, after only following the brief period, I have been crowned, somewhat dubiously (I agree) as the biggest fan of Hollyoaks? (It must be the fact that I watch each episode, twice, but am I excluded for not going for the trice, Sunday omnibus. Has Teg gone mad? No, I have not, I have proof. Maybe, just maybe this is the moment I have been waiting for. The moment my blog takes that giant leap from obscurity to major national exposure.

Look, I will make it easier for you, how about this doctored, Adobe Photoshop approach. That is Jake Dean (or a rather sleepy Kevin Sacre) awaking from a slumber, while on the far right, just in clear shot is a box, labeled, "TEG". Before I get too narrative, Jake was moving his things in to the flat rented by his wife, Becca. I actually spotted this on E4, on Monday night, while the rest of country was drunk on the euphoria of the Ashes victory against Australia. Listening to Anita Anand on Five Live last night, one listener suggested, The Empire Strikes Back as the title for the DVD compilation for the test match series. Genius!

Right, back to Hollyoaks, which will be mentioned for the last time (this month at least) on my blog. I think they should start another channel, Classic E4 if you will. Here they can show, Hollyoaks from the beginning, classic Brookside, vintage Countdown. It would be a great success and if scheduled well, could prove t be a major hit with the public (particularly my age group!) So come on Channel 4, give us what we've been waiting for. Just a downright shame, that this brief moment of fame, will have been missed by everyone. Shame.

Sunday 11th September 2005

This date was just a meaningless day of Fall, five years ago. Little did we know how often the phrase, "nine eleven" would now be used consistently in conjunction with the war on terror. As it is a quiet Sunday evening, do not worry, I will not be going all political on you, so please stick with me. I have, tended to both avoid the subject of the terror attacks on the Twin Towers and to blog on this fateful date. Yet, this afternoon, I was watching the anniversary coverage on both Sky News and BBC News 24, and thought it my duty to pay my respects and reflect. Thankfully, I have never had to face a human tragedy of this scale and have nothing but the deepest heartfelt sympathies for all those who lost their lives and gave their lives helping to save those trapped. I believe the images from that day will live on in our minds forever, watching live news coverage as the two towers came down in a few seconds. Crazy. That is the only way I can describe as we watched a pivotal moment in history unfold before our very eyes. While little has come to affect me directly, my thoughts switched to my cousin, a cabbie in the city. But knowing he was always working the nightshift, it was some consolation, when we did hear from him.

Was that really four years ago? It does not feel as long ago as that. So much has happened in those short few years. Most of which has been documented in this blog. Then again, that is only my self-centred universe, rarely taking in the true reality of the rat race in the rear world. They were reading out the names of all the victims this afternoon, at ground zero. 2,479. Insignificant when placed on the page, because the victims are more than numbers, they are more than just a name on a list. They were human beings, with friends, family, lives of their own. Taken away, for reasons above and beyond them. We should all remember the victims of the terror attacks and pray that such events never unfold before our eyes, ever again.

Thanks to Nazma over at Something in Between has passed on a Music Baton to me, so here goes. I will be as honest as possible.

Total Volume of music files on computer:

My world famous mp3 collection contains, 13 GB of singles and just over 200 albums. (you can find out more over on the audio page.

Last CD I bought:

Divine Inspiration - The Way, January 2003, charted at Number 5.

Song playing right now:

Bow Wow ft. Ciara - Like You

Five tracks I listen to regularly:

(most of this information and much more is available over at on my Last FM profile)
Michael Jackson - Human Nature
Sugarcult - Bouncing Off The Walls Again
Christina Aguilera - Genie In A Bottle
Clay Aiken - The Way
Mariah Carey - We Belong Together

That is me done and it is my duty to pass this baton (torch) on to three people: Sippy, Terry and Hussein.

Talking of music, I finally received the iPod Mini last week. I bought the pink 4 gigabyte edition for my sisters, thanks to a tantalizing, not be missed offer. Bought to me by the guru, Hussein. He also recommended the iPod socks ahead of any cases. That was a sound recommendation, Personally, you will know that I avoid these popular consumer fads, and believe the iRiver is better product. Just a shame, the everyone else enjoys jumping on the Apple bandwagon. They have been going about having some portable music device, so they finally have it (if they learn to look after it, that is!) I also have no need for an iPod. I do not do any travel or sports which could make use of music on the go. I am quite happy with my ten disc CD changer and MP3 CD head unit in the car. In total, I can only listen to around four songs (or one song four times!) on the way to and from work, so I have been very picky on my selections. Think it was time I burnt myself a well earned CD after a busy weekend of driving. Should be able to fit a quick SWOS game too! ;)

Friday 9th September 2005

Is it Friday already? The week has flown by and I have been rather busy. This blog has become neglected (as my dearest friend, Sippy has noticed). Therefore, I am hoping that this weekend, I can spent some time to put that right. I have to admit that over the past few days I have not had the inspiration to blog, there is nothing worth writing about. The overall week has been depressing, with poor football results and calls for dismissals or resignations. Sometimes, you need some time to let your life unravel before you can get to grips with it and actually put things together.

Talking a passing interest in the minor teen soap, when it started ten years, yes, ten years ago, I have suddenly become a hardcore viewer. Hollyoaks, perhaps has lost some of the magic, of the original, but then things do tend to age (for better or worse). To be honest, I do not know where this addiction has come from. Even during my final year at University, I started slipping into the soap, to fill in some time, during the early evening lull from the computer. Over the past few months, I have been doing the ridiculous. Watching the standard airing on Channel 4, each weekday evening at 6.30pm, minutes before I get home from work. Then, over on E4, I have the opportunity take the First Look at the following days episode. While this alone would be sufficient, I take it to the next level by watching the same episode again on the terrestrial channel. This week, to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the show, there were four late night episodes this week. Theses allowed the producers and script writers loose on more risque material, more suited to the time of day. However, they were cleverly spliced, to slot in perfectly with the standard show screened earlier that evening. Although there are various topics (some illegal and some inappropriate) I want to focus on the character that stole the show. Ben Davies. Even saying his name, I hear myself, using the voice of Marcus Patrick in my head. Playing every bit the part of the paranoid boyfriend. He has been hysterical and has had me in stitches. I suppose us blokes are like that, once we get an idea in our head, no serious reasoning will let us see sense.

His on screen partner and him have been doing such a grand job (the most popular characters?) that they have their own spin off show, Let Loose that started on Monday. However, due to my commitments to my computer and lack of digital satellite reception in my room, I will not be able to catch this show. Would this be the ideal time to get a freeview set top box?

A quick question for you? What is the greatest football game of all time? I think there would be a clear line drawn between the FIFA fans and Pro Evo worshippers. I have played both (briefly) and have no doubt that the later beats the former, hands down. Yet, I still would say that both are not the greatest football game of all time. Long before second generation of consoles, there was Sensible World of Soccer. I was discussing this with a work colleague recently and began to reminisce about the days, when only one thing mattered. Game play was king. Fancy graphics, celebrity commentary did not matter. The aim of the day, was to get your team playing simple one touch football and scoring outrageous goals that defied the laws of physics. But then again, the graphics are as simple, as the era (less than ten years ago mind!) I downloaded a DOS version but as expected it did not work under Windows XP. (Even using a fix to emulate a 16-bit DOS sound card, those were the days!) Thankfully, I discovered the fan site, Sensible Soccer which included a Sega Mega Drive emulator and a copy of Sensible Soccer - International Edition. One word. Great. Warning, do not download this game, if you consider your time on the PC a privilege and not a right. I am off for another game! :)

Monday 5th September 2005

Monday already? The working week comes around far too quickly for my liking. What a weekend! A typical bloke's weekend, with football, cars, gadgets and computers. Where to start? Let us give a quick whirlwind review of the weekend. Thank you for bearing with me.

Saturday began with my trip to Heathrow to collect my Mum and sister. Not sure about you, but trips to the airport have always excited me. Several years ago, we had an almost annual customary trip to Heathrow. It would incidentally coincide with the release of the new number plate (1st August, back then, boys and girls) my sisters and I would spent the course of the journey looking out for the new letter, on shiny new cars, trucks, lorries and vans. Regardless of whom we are dropping off or collecting, there is a buzz about being in a cosmopolitan lounge, as people make their way off around the world. People is not the right word to use. Families, friends, loved ones. All heading away, and saying goodbye. I drove the car, having just woke my Dad up a few minutes earlier. We headed out around 6.40pm, knowing from the night before the plane would have landed by the time we got onto the M25. We parked, eventually finding a space on the second level. Heading into the arrivals area, it was surprisingly busy for early Saturday afternoon. As expected the flight had landed a few minutes earlier. It was was some time past 7am, my Dad handing me some cash to go get him a coffee and myself some tea. There were (as always) no options apart from Starbucks. I queued but, it was busy and there were four, maybe five people serving. Ordering a cappuccino and a tea, there was a twenty minute wait, before receiving my order. My drink slowly woke me up, while my Dad casually sipped his coffee. Sitting down, waiting for my family to arrive, I started to just observe the crowd. Some holding up signs, one by the Pharmaceutical giant, Merck. Families coming together, those hugs and smiles after weeks or months apart. am not a big commentary on social interaction, but it is interesting to see the expressions of joy, relief and heartfelt warmth, as people spot their friend or relative in the crowd. The baggage was in the hall, by now and I was sure my sister and my mother would be coming out of those magical tours very soon. The sudden influx of Indians or rather people that appeared to be from the sub-continent, heightened my expectations. There was still a good fifteen to twenty minute wait before they did finally materialize, although, it perhaps just felt longer. As I expected, my Mum, driving the trolley heading left towards the exit, while we had been waiting all this time to her right. Slipping under the barrier I headed to to grab her attention. There was no point shouting, Mum, a I did not know how many people (young and old) would turn their heads in my direction. (Just as someone had shouted Andrew, a few minutes earlier). Skipping in between other arrivals and their massive hoards of luggage. Tapping my Mum on the shoulder, I got her attention and as she turned around I saw the familiar smile I had not seen for over six weeks. How I had missed it so.

My sister was home from Nottingham for the weekend and I thought it great if we caught up a movie together. As chance would have it, she had not seen the sequel to the 2002 smash, Spiderman. By a strange act of fate, Sky Movies were premiering the film, as part of their Super heroes Weekend. This was an ideal time for me to relive the adventure, having seen the movie in down the local multiplex in July 2004. What can I say? It has everything, action, a love story, a mediocre villain, and the reaction of major characters when the man behind the mask is revealed. My favourite character? There can be only one! The editor of course, perhaps just piping the editor from the Bollywood movie, Mr. India to the post! Perhaps the greatest comic book movie adaptation of all time (after Superman II, of course). Of course there are holes in this picture, to make it bridge the game before the big (final?) part of the trilogy. Scheduled for release in 2007, I expect the final web, to be the biggest.

Early start on Sunday, but that is to be expected. We are after all, talking about Mighty Mouse, who is know to get up at 5am on a Sunday, just to tweak some Perl scripts. I woke up a bit later than I wanted to, but thought I had plenty of time. Around 8.15am, I got a phone call. No, he can't be here already. I bet he is waiting outside, I thought, rushing to put on my clothes. To my surprise, he had overslept and was just about to head out of the door. Surprised, but not at all angry or upset, I just told Hussein to let me know when he was near by so I could direct him to my house. In fact these turn in events, turned out to be a blessing in disguise. When he finally arrived to pick me up, just before 9am, we headed off onto the M40. Pleasantly shocked by the quality of the ride in the Skoda Fabia. You can put your foot down and the engine does raw to life. CDs? Where were were going, there was no need for CDs. Empeg all the way. Passing me the remote, I was given the authority to select the play list for our journey down. What an honour? But I was slightly lost with the controls, so we agreed to play, the assorted singles collection. Which, in fact proved to be a wise decision. The weather was good, if somewhat foggy, but that was more to the time of day. The cruise on the M40, was uneventful. With the driver pushing the car to the limit, if only to show off. There were not the awful sight of Nova, bombing down at 50mph, in a bright lime green, overloaded with passengers and struggle to pick up any acceleration. Perhaps it was too early for the Vauxhall crowd. The traffic was light on the A43, so we made good time, until we got off for the Silverstone junction. This is where we stopped. This was where I finally spotted a mark two Astra, pimped to the max. I was warned to expect more of the same.

We entered the race course at exactly 10am, and began to plan our day. My only scheduled stop, was to see Pav's M3 on the e36coupe dot com stand. The rest of was in the hand's of my fellow car enthusiast. After all, he had been here before and knew what to expect, catch and miss. Thankfully, as soon as we entered the car group enclosure, Breezy's car was standing out ahead of me, unmissable. I snapped some photos, but he was nowhere to be found, a call to his mobile, but it was switched off. My mission was complete, and so soon. With a sign of relief, I followed the lead of Hussein and planned to work our way around the car stands. However, we quickly headed for the 0-60 sprint track, when Hussein spotted a dark green Y-reg Fabia, headlights taped up, queuing for the track. We headed to the track and watched some heavy muscle cars, take their place. The masterpiece which was a Evo, clocking up an incredible 2.99 seconds. WOW! Our lady friend in the Fabia did not fair well at all. Not only did she have the jeers of the crowd, sneering at the thought of her pushing a 1.9 turbo diesel on the track. She had a poor pull off and ended up not registering a time, the clocked timed out at 17 seconds. Hardly a respectable time. Hang your head in shame. Under nine seconds last year? Your having a laugh!

I will upload my pictures later in the week, but for the time being there are a few galleries you can view. Namely, Mighty Mouse and Breezy.

Wednesday 31st August 2005

The last day of August, the last day of summer. Life holds steady. Sure, the summer could have been bigger, brighter, more fun. Yet, what I have achieved? Very little, but I think I have to focus on the future and what is to come. I'm looking forward to the weekend, my Mother and youngest sister return from India. God knows those forty-six days have flown by fast. Life will return to some sort of normality and I can just get on. Catching up with those, I have lost contact with during the holidays will be an important milestone. Giving me the chance to reflect, on what my sister, Samantha, describes as the rest of my life, the 9-5 rat race. Whenever I she speaks those words, I hear the opening lines of Everybody Wants To The Rule The World by Tears for Fears. "Welcome to your life. There's no turning back. Even while we sleep. We will find you". Perhaps the best way to describe my weekday existence, if perhaps not as dark and gloomy. Sure, work consumes me, but it does not overwhelm (I try my best to keep my distance). Although, I tend not to look at the whole picture and just focus on today and tomorrow, there is no need to look further.

Sometimes, I feel this blog lacks any purpose. My life is not exactly very interesting, I do not have a grand unusual hobby, or anything compelling to say, in commentary on the world around us. If anything, this blog is just a record of my life, movies I've watched, music I'm listening to and occasionally, those big events in my life. Other blogs offer to much more, not just news but great adventure from all around the world.

Talking of which, on Sunday, I'm heading off to Trax at Sliverstone with my super hero friends. The perfect opportunity to reorganize my photo gallery. The latest version of the software I use, is not only more pleasing to the eye, there are more features and options, so I should be able to put together a nice gallery, with a few albums. I will keep my FlickR account, but use it more for the odd, candid shot.

Technorati has already become a useful tool. I have saved a few watch lists, and one would of course be focused on my favourite football club. On Sunday evening, I came across a new blog, Gooner's World. So what makes this blog different from the others that I read? Well initially the subject of Arsenal was the hook, but after reading a few entries, I discovered the author as a mad MJ fan. Result. To date, I have not found someone to have such a passion for the Gooner's, the King of Pop and to top it of, is able to put these two very different worlds together on a blog. Give, Terry, credit where it is due. He has only been keeping a blog for a few months and in these relatively early days, I am impressed with not just the quality of the writing, but the content. Happily drifting from Arsenal's latest signing, to fresh images of Michael, looking healthier since the trial verdict. I'm going to be keeping an eye on this one, and maybe, just maybe I will blog roll it!

My favourite month of the year brings the heavy steam train to Christmas and 2006. Sure, there are minor stops on the way, but generally, life is going to be non-stop. The time will fly by, but every step, gear change and mirror signal manoeuver will be captured here, on my blog. All aboard.

Friday 26th August 2005

The last Friday in August, already? Where has the month gone? This must be the fastest four weeks, to pass before my eyes, ever. I suppose having so much to do, meant there was little time to sit back and watch from the sidelines. It has been a dramatic time for this site, also and finally, after six years, I have a permanent home, with no annoying pop-ups and advertising banners. Suppose, what you'll be looking for next is a complete overhaul and redesign from scratch. This design, is just a few months short of reaching the landmark of two years in service. I am proud, that it has served me so well. The actually site celebrated it's fifth birthday on the first day of this month. The whole celebrations were unmarked, because it completely slipped my mind. The site has grown over those short few years. It was in November 2003, the my visions for this blog finally became true. Detailed entries, with analysis, thought and feeling, featuring all the pictures I had caught on my camera. In May last year, I added the commenting system, which has helped me interact with all my readers. Who knows what the next two years will bring? Will there come a time when Teg's blog ceases to exist? I very much doubt it.

Hate to go political on you, particularly in the period referred to in the British (if not global) press as 'silly season'. Our friend George, is at it again on the propaganda trail, stateside. Difficult to explain my fiery hatred for this political figure. It is the pompous, 'I'm right and your not' attitude. No one deserves to be attacked by a mob but then again, you try not to be a false prophet and dispel your critics. Nav has tried hard to get to the root of my ill feeling to this politician, but it not an easy task. I believe the fact that you can't reason with him, is perhaps the most fitting and perhaps only reason I can give for my views. Unfortunately, he appears to have struck a cord with a certain group of individuals in the UK, who have now become his supporters. Proclaiming that he says it as it is, is a true, genuine politician and fighting the cause of the man on the street. There are famous celebrities, also called, George, with short entries on Wikipedia than our representative of Bethnal Green and Bow.

End of the rant and onward to the other George. Formby (yes, there is a m there, not an n!). Unless you've been on another planet this week, you will not have missed the headline news story of TB and his ukulele. While it was comical to think of our Prime Minister, strumming along on the beach, it got me thinking. The most famous British ukulele player, has to be George Formby. While the actual instrument is always associated with Pacific singers, there may be more truth in European roots. On BBC Radio Five Live, last night they had a ukulele player and Formby impersonator, and he played the classic, "When I'm Cleaning Windows". Why am I mentioning all this? I think it is important to gain an appreciation for music, movies and general goings on, that were before our era. It is quite easy to close yourself off and only concentrate on the things that you can relate to. Yet, there is so much to learn and enjoy some golden oldies.

Over on her blog, Nazma has set some aims for the autumn. While her blog continues to be an inspiration to me, considering my own personal aims for the coming months, at her own suggestion. Do I really need to list some objectives? My problem with this is, is that I leave myself open to some sort of rejection or feeling of failure, if they are not met. This blog in it's very nature, tends to be more reflective on past events, rather than looking forward to the future. Sure, there have been times when I look ahead to big events coming up, but they are few and far between. The purpose of this blog is record events, more than preach about how my future should pan out. Therefore I have decided to just go with the flow and set no great expectations for the future. Perhaps because Nazma is more comfortable letting her feelings spill out onto the page, she finds this process so much easier than me. I suppose what I'm trying to so hard to say, is that I believe that it will always Turn(ed) Out Nice Again.

Sunday 21st August 2005

The mother of all reality television shows return to our television screen last night. While purists would always go for Big Brother, my personal opinion on the whole RT situation is as follows. If you have talent, you will be discovered and have your fifteen minutes (perhaps more). However, we must stop now, the mindset of many young people growing up thinking they are the next big thing. Arrogance is one thing, but a belief that you have a god given talent and should be booking your place in the final is appalling. What makes it worse, is bringing your entire family along to witness this character assassination. Then having the cheek to beg the judges to overturn an unanimous decision. True talent will shine through, regardless of the circumstances. You know if you are good and others will be aware of and acknowledge your talent. HRH The Prince of Wales recently highlighted this in a leaked memo. I agree with him. People should not rise above their station, unless their achievement is through sheer determination, hard work and resilience. Some people associate fame, with money. They fail to realise that before any of the recognition or plaudits comes the hard work. The long nights practicing and defining your art. We all need to change and forget the dream that everything will be served up on a plate for us. It will not. While I confess, I am part of the MTV generation, that perhaps can be blamed as the root course for this social change in our youth. There is more to the picture than meets the eye. What people need to understand there are other things to channel their efforts into. Many are called, few are chosen. (I should be one to know.)

So the big match, is just a few hours away. I can't wait. We have a fantastic league record against the Blues and look forward to bringing them down a beg or two. While I respect the Champions, their manager is someone whom at times, beggars belief. Most comment on the departure of our captain for Italy, yet forget those that remain. I am strong believer that no one, is bigger than the club, regardless their talent and contribution as a player or manager. Therefore, a club is better off without those onboard, who are not fully committed to the cause. With Patrick gone we can focus on what really matters. Not just winning every game, but in the style that has made us the most exciting team to watch by a country mile. On my hunt around the web to find other Arsenal related web sites, I discovered the following, blog, the Arsenal View. Regularly updated and intelligently written, I think I may well add this to blog roll in the coming few weeks. Come on you Gooners!

A big fan of the children's cartoon, which was screened on BBC1 in the mid 1990s, I have not seen the 1956 original, starting David Niven. The cartoon, was actually produced in the late 1980s, but had several re-runs on the Beeb. I was hoping to see the remake starting Steve Coogan and Jackie Chan, last summer. I can recall, double decker buses driving past St. Paul's Cathedral, last summer, as I ate my lunch, with the movie poster on side. As it happened, I did not get around to watching the film on the big screen. While not a major disappointment, I looked forward to the premiere on Sky Movies, which thankfully was last night. I did not realise it was a Walt Disney production until I checked on the web, but as far as an entertaining movie goes, it hit the spot. While not the whirlwind adventure I had hoped for, there was enough going on to keep me occupied. Jim Broadbent and Ewen Bremner steal the show together, with some classic one liners. If you wanted something historically accurate and well polished, you've come to the wrong place. Jackie Chan binds the movie together and provides a great companion for Steve Coogan, on this journey to secure his wager. Overall the movie, while distracting from the original movie does have feature a host of cameos, which keep you glued to the screen. The fight scenes are unique and inventive, even if the whole guise of the Black Scorpion sub-plot was vintage, Chan, wanting to put his own stamp on his characters motivation. Personally, I think Chan should these stories of protecting family honour or saving the village from doom. They do not work well in Hollywood. Other than that, it was an entertaining, Saturday night family movie. Just a shame I watched it on my own.

Friday 19th August 2005

So I reach the end of my first week of hosting with 123-Reg. What can I say? It is great to not have to give out a separate link for the banner free hosting. The orange UK2 banner has now a place in the back of my memory and no longer a blunt appearance at the top of my web page. Overall, I have created new e-mail address and started a major marketing campaign. Now my blog has a settled home, I feel I need to go out and get as many readers as possible. This market blitz begins with Technorati, with whom I have registered. Plenty of work to be done, however. So, if you find a blog that is worth reading, please drop me a line. Anyone who links to me, will get a link back, again just get in touch.

While I tend to discover most new music on my own, there is a time when others push me in the direction of new material. This blog is littered with examples of this. Last week, one of my new friends on MSN, recommended Bow Wow ft. Ciara - 'Like You'. On this recommendation, I obtained the track but did not have a feeling I would like it. I listened, out of good faith to my friend. Sure, on the first listen, it was a song that I liked but did not feel a big buzz for. Well not instantly. On my trials around the web, I discovered the video being played on various profiles on a site, made up of mainly American users. It was now, I realised how much I thought the song was great. So much so, that I included it on the CD I burnt last Sunday. It is difficult to describe the sound, perhaps smooth RnB. Bow Wow's voice blends well with the soft sugary vocals of Ciara. Yet again, an artist that takes not two but three attempts to win me over. I had not liked her edgy hip hop flavour singles, but here, on a slower, more heartfelt track, she feels right at home (to my ears at least). From the album, Wanted, Little Bow wants to tell the world he has grown up!

I have to dedicate part of this entry to Sippy. Forever my dedicated friend, he came to my aid when I needed it most. Without his help and at times persistence, I would not be here now. I would still be stuck in the void between no domain and no host. While I thank him for hosting my blog temporarily for a few weeks, I would also like to thank him for his constant advice during this time. I was lost and glad to have the experience and expertise of a web programmer, working in the commercial field for some 18 months. Someone, with that knowledge and understanding. What I kept asking about was the time delay, thankfully my friend knew exactly the time it would take for everything to fall into place. It has and I can now look forward to many happy years here. (Until perhaps the day comes when I am no longer part of the blogosphere).

There are several topics regarded as no go areas for general public discussion. Politics, music, football and religion. Perhaps, as these bring out the greatest passion in human nature. You will argue all night long about something you believe deeply about. I am by no means the most religious person in the world, but I have strong beliefs. Today was rakhi. A minor but notheless important religious festival in the Hindi calender. Happy Rakhi to all my fellow Hindu cousins out there!

England gave a pathetic performance against Denmark on Wednesday night. This is the first time I have seen England hit the self destruct button in five years. The last occasion being our exit from Euro 2000. For the first time under Sven, we have serious questions being asked about his man management and motivation skills. Sure, it was a friendly, but it does take away that fact that you are representing your county. Pride of place, as a moment of honour, to wear the three lions shirt. While the excuse that it is too early in the season for such games, international football is different from club football and you need to show desire and commitment, regardless of the time in the season. Thankfully, I see this being the wake up call, the FA needed. Time to make some changes, across the park and put together a team that looks both deadly in attack and solid at the back. Surely, if England are to go to Germany as favourites, they need to prove their star billing into a creditable squad selection. Over the many years I have been following England, this team although perhaps the most entertaining going forward, has major question marks at the back. Rio and Sol are perhaps the only ideal pairing, organised and strong. While Glenn Hoddle had his critics, I feel he was the most shrewd in his tactics and squad selection. Heading into the World Cup in France, he left out Owen and Beckham, with journalists heavily on his back about this failure to play the star players from the start. Yet, now with hindsight you can see his thinking, of saving them for the bigger stage. I don't see Sven using this sort of tactic. His system is solid at the back, hit them on the counter, score a goal, protect the lead, go for another goal and then hang out for the win. While this might work in club football, it is not really realistic at international level. It does not compensate for a weak start, falling a goal behind. England need to show confidence from the off and be able to control the game. Against the Danes we were played out of the game, particularly in midfield as they pushed forward to break down our defence. We lacked the holding midfielder, screening the defence, with Beckham cutting inside to try and cover. Overall, we looked like a displaced force, lacking any ideas, and lucky to get a goal back through Wayne Rooney, down more to lack of concentration by the hosts. Hopefully against the Welsh, we will be more alert and realise our World Cup place is in doubt and less of a certainty.

Monday 15th August 2005

Monday morning again. Thankfully this morning, I had Simon Webbe with his debut single on CD, to help make the day a much easier pill to swallow. I drove to work with a spring in my step and fresh wind blowing through my mind. Ready to take on the world and win! On this CD, I had another classic song. Yet, before I can give you the artist and title I need to give the background. Of course, the reality is that my dearest friend Nav should be providing this rushed look back at his college years, but it falls upon to pick up the baton. At college, in his 6th form college room, there was only one band, Nav used to listen to. Going through the trendy indie phase, there was only one song that can remind him of this happy and someone carefree time. I wish I could sum up the super powers to take him back and away from his current predicament. While I cannot do this, I can do the second (or rather twenty-third best thing). Dedicate this blog entry to him. Perhaps someone he feels he is from another planet, I find his company on MSN a constant joy and pillar of knowledge. Perhaps the great book is true. If this is case, then perhaps the one could be, Girl From Mars!

123-Reg, the new hosts of my web site got their act together this morning. I still had not been contacted as the administrative contact for my domain. So, I faxed them, a cover sheet. Funnily enough, the address for them, over in Nottingham is Portland Street. A nod, or rather insult to the names of my previous hosts. The man upstairs truly doeswork in mysterious ways. It was confirmed as a successful transmission at 10.24am, in fourteen minutes, I had the confirmation sent to my Yahoo! account. Amazing. This was the sort of quality service I was used to. I logged in and ported in my domain into the 123-Reg control panel, purchased my hosting and sat back to relax. After thirteen days waiting around, I was hoping the hard work was done. I changed the DNS servers, which updated instantly but I had to wait until around 8pm tonight for the change to propagate around cyberspace, far and wide. Over in Brumland, the change was not as quick. While I could see the factory fit holding page, Sippy could see nothing. They just must be extra slow in the Midlands. I could not wait for them, so had to get my friend Nav on the case to check the site. Indeed, over in Lincolnshire, he could see my personal holding page (just my logo), while home in High Wycombe I could only view the 123-Reg holding page. :( Please only link to this site via the official link - t-e-g dot co dot uk.

So here we are, hosting done and dusted. No banners, no UK2Net, no chance of a DoS attack bringing down my servers or that of my host. The future is bright. The future is red. Why red? Why, the red planet of course. On my drive home, I put the volume up as I headed out of the car park, it was time for some serious rock.

Do you remember the time I knew a Girl From Mars?
I don't know if you knew that.
Oh we'd stay up late playing cards,
Henri Winterman Cigars.
Though she never told me her name,
I still love you, Girl From Mars.

Sunday 14th August 2005

Perhaps some ten years ago, I was a big fan of Stars In Their Eyes. Matthew Kelly presented the show, with the warmth and charisma, that he could be your very own uncle. Then, I looked forward to everyday people, from various walks of life, becoming a star, their idol for the day. About five years ago, a gentle appeared to single 'Take On Me' and while he was good, there were better performers on the night. He went through to the grand final, but did not claim the biggest prize. If my memory serves me correctly, it was the last final with Kelly at the helm. Two weekends ago, I watched Lee Otway (Bombhead from Hollyoaks, win with his rendition of Waiting Here For You, by the smooth lounge singer, Richard Marx. While is performance was a great surprise, for such a reserved and gentile character on screen. So, last night I had the show on, in the background of my computer, while I concentrated on something else. I did not see, the introduction to the act, but just the celebrity, go through the special doors to then reappear. On their emergence, from the cloudy mist, I instantly recognised who they were and hit record on my TV tuner software. This was a moment not to be missed.

While I stopped watching the Bill several years ago. The moment they killed off Sergeant Cryer in 2001. A hanging offence in my book. Since then, with the time changes, theme changes and changing sponsors, I gave up on the show and no longer watch. However, that does not mean I did not recognise, Neil Pearson played by Andrew Lancel. The question on my mind was, which a-ha song to before? Of course, they chose, their biggest UK hit (a number one in December 1985). The Sun Always Shines On TV is a great song, on so many levels. It is moving, reflective, uplifting, emotional and even hopeful. Lancel's performance was admirable, and he was a deserving winner for the show.

While discussing this with Nav, I tried to explain the video trilogy that went hand in hand with a-ha's first three singles. He quickly dropped over to the MTV web site to watch the videos for himself. While perhaps, Take On Me should have been released as the final single of the three (it would have worked backwards, just think about it!) it does get more recognition that it truly needs. Perhaps this is the man upstairs clever way of reminding me, what I can look forward to in just under four months time. Perhaps some you out there, will realise how special twenty years ago, really was. Not just the music, the fashion, the technology. I am talking about something much much more important than that. The moment.

Friday 12th August 2005

My next dilemma is quite straight forward. Just whom to take on me?

Wednesday 10th August 2005

I woke up this morning, and slowly came to the realisation that I was stuck in the middle of the week. Longing for the football season to start. The working week was busy, and the worse was yet to come. Yet I knew with a smile, I could see myself through. Getting into the car this morning, with yet another busy day in the office, just seven miles down the road in prospect. Completely by accident, I switched on the radio. You will know that in recent months, I have completely stopped listening to the radio in the car. These days, I tend to listen to some KISS at the weekends, but even then it is only for a fleeting moment, before I pop on a CD. The radio had been on Star 106 on Sunday evening and as I had listened to CDs since then, the radio had not been changed. The final verse of 'Take On Me' was playing. The song made me think of the concert in December and I wondered when I would be receiving my tickets. Getting into work, I have a routine (as I do with everything). Coming around to checking my Yahoo! e-mail account, I received e-mail confirmation that my tickets would be dispatched this week. Should receive them by Friday.

As if that was not enough good news, my friend from University, Paul came online. He was fishing for compliments. It was his birthday, so I did the decent thing and wished him many happy returns. Then, he hit me with it. He had finally returned to his blog, after almost exactly a two year break. Regular readers of my blog, will be well aware of two things. Firstly that even though Paul has been absent from the blogsophere for such a significant amount of time, I have on the odd occasion linked to his blog, hosted over at Blogger. Secondly, I have a strong anti-amateur blog policy, during office hours. The only blogs I visit at work are the various blogs by the Guardian (namely, News, Online and Observer). Therefore I had to ask my friend Nav, to check that an update had actually been made and the quality of the entry. For a full read, I would have to wait until I returned home at 6.30pm this evening. Nav promised me that I would not be disappointed, and as to not spoil the surprise, revealed very little, apart from the fact that not only all the issues raised were close to my heart but they also had been missed from the debate so far. Indeed, when I came through the door, this evening, I smiled knowingly that I would be checking Paul's blog, but for a change, it would have been updated. Enough from me, go judge for yourself and await his next entry. Mark my words, this could well be the greatest come back of all time. (Well at least until Michael comes back for his Invincible tour and new material.)

Firstly a quote from my dearest friend and current expert Sippy: "I didn't know UK2Net were a bunch of incompetent fools!" If that is the headline, this is the story. You will know that I am currently in the process of transferring my domain from UK2 Net to 123-REG. This has been played with constant problems, considering I placed this request on Wednesday 3rd August, it still has not been completed. (Yes, www.t-e-g.co.uk is still down). If only someone had told me before, that there are several reasons why not to use this shoddy excuse for a domain host. If you read that article you under the shady operations of the man at the top (who has registered his company three times under three separate names). Hopefully the lawyers and police are not too far behind him! Not sure how long it will take for my site to come back, so please bear with me while the technical and rather tedious administrative are completed.

Sunday 7th August 2005

Today was the day. I suppose I had waited for this day all my life. Sure I've attended other football matches, a European Championship Group match and an international friendly, featuring the mighty Brazil. Yet, this topped them all. Why? Perhaps because I was forfilling a life long childhood dream. Going to a final (of questionable sorts) with my Dad. My Dad is not the biggest football fan, but he does try and for this he deserves great credit. When I got offered these tickets, there was little doubt in my mind, on who I would be taking along. Going somewhere new and explored also added a sense of intrigued to this adventure.

I crawled out of bed just after 6am, on a Sunday morning, this was early. Suddenly it dawn on me the full prospect of the day, yet I had little time to reflect on this moment. I had things to do. Rushing upstairs, I went to wake up my Dad. Then, I quickly had some cereal, constantly watching the clock, to make sure we left the house as early as humanly possible. After a quick shower, I was surprised by the lack of noise and movement from my Dad's room, so went to his room, to wake him up again. Talk about role reversal, it should be the parent dragging the child out of bed! Thankfully we left the house at 7.20am and were on the M4 by 7.30am. Already the signs were there of a beautiful day. The sun shone brightly, across a clear bright blue sky. Magical. An Escort drove past, with Arsenal flags waving in the air, from both rear windows. I tried my best to catch up and just flash my headlights at them, but they were in a hurry and I did not have the patience for the chase. Driving at a steady, 70 miles an hour, I was listening to Spoony on BBC Radio One. My Dad had drifted off to sleep, leaving me to concentrate on the road and take in the picturesque views of this green and pleasant land. Being a town boy, I think I have come to lack an appreciation for the countryside. It is only when you are out on the road that you truly understand that this country is rural.

This has to be one of best drives, ever. The traffic was light, the views were breathtaking and at the end of the road, was a dream. Watching my team play football for the first time in six years. There was the waving and thumbs up, given to other Arsenal fans. There was the sneering glances exchanged with Chelsea fans, most of whom appeared to be driving nearly new BMW. Perhaps the big man, is spreading some of his wealth far and wide in the football club. This was to be my first time in Cardiff, although not my first time across the border to Wales. While I am sure many people have their views on this country, I think it is beautiful.

As we approached the border, we took the Severn Bridge, which has a toll charge of Ł4.80 for cars. Thankfully I had some cash on me (rare for me, as I'm predominately a card person these days!) I was hoping my Dad would have taken some photos, but he was sound asleep and while I would have managed a quick snap with my phone camera, it would have done little justice to the view. After the bridge, we were in Welsh country. Noticeable by the dual language signage. We were making excellent time and I was glad that we had, correction, I had taken the decision to leave at such an ungodly hour. We pulled into the Arsenal Park & Ride car park, just before 9.30am, and had a prime spot. All this for Ł5, not bad! As we got out of the car, my body came to the sudden shock that it had driven around 140 miles, none stop. Looking at the clock on my mobile (I had left my watch back home for obvious reasons) I commented to my Dad how we had made perfect time. Getting onto the bus, we were shocked at how close the city centre was, from the school we had just parked at. In the distance, I could see the towering arches of the stadium. We had arrived.

A handful of other fans had followed our lead, to get here early. As we walked down the main shopping street. Merchandise sellers were selecting prime slots for their stalls. The shops were closed and most would not open until 11am. We needed a quick light breakfast. While I was looking for a local café, nothing suitable was available or open. So, there was no option, we walked back to the bigger Star Bucks. While I could go into detail about chasing the corporate, or should that be corporate pound, I will refrain. This sort of discussion is more suited to the politically motivated blogs, such as Xercs. Unlike my Dad, a coffee drinker, I just had a medium cup of Earl Grey Tea. While my Dad opted for a jazzy named, wake me up potion, under the banner of some wild bean cappuccino. I was not really that hungry, but opted for an Apple & Cinnamon muffin, while my Dad had some carrot cake. Sitting outside, we planned what we were to do with our day. Taking charge, I proposed the following. A walk across to the stadium, to find our Gate. Then, a quick ride on the sightseeing tour bus, then lunch, then a few drinks in the pub before the big kick off.

We had seen the sight seeing open tour bus, parked up next to the castle, but thought nothing of it at the time. We were too busy trying to track down the stadium entrance. It was later in the morning, when we realised that we had so much time to ourselves that my Dad insisted we pop on the bus for a ride. There was no other way were going to see the sights of this great city. On foot our options were limited, and the heavy police presence meant we were under constant close scrutiny and for good reason. We headed onto the top deck of the bus and like a school kid, my Dad headed right to the back. We sat on the right hand side, as a Arsenal fan ahead of us commented that Chelsea fans were sitting on the other side, to the left!

You all know how I loved the return of Dr. Who to our television screens this spring.(Oh how I miss the Time Lord on Saturday evenings!) So my trip to Cardiff was also a minor pilgrimage. The episode Boom Town was filmed entirely on location in Cardiff. With the TARDIS arriving, outside the majestic Millennium Centre. This is sight that can only be given true justice by being seen in real life. My photographs do little to capture the power of the building and the beautiful inscription, in both English and Welsh.

Cardiff is beautiful, and it is amazing to learn that the bay has been completely redeveloped from derelict marsh land, to a buzzing residential, business and entertainment centre, in recent years. So much so, that one acre of land sold for Ł2 million recently, in a plan to build luxury flats. As we drove across this part of time, we came up to one of two five star hotels in the city. Chelsea were using this as their base for the afternoon game. In the car park, there was a shiny silver Mercedes, with the number plate 2 ROW. No idea to whom it may belong, if you have any ideas, please let me know.

It is only in the past eight months that I have been exposed to such a cocktail of people. The nature of the job means, on a daily basis I speak to representatives from Ireland, Scotland, all across England and last but not least Wales. There are a few clients whom I have got to know well, and you pick up their "talking" style. For the Welsh, it is the customary, 'is it', which they seem to add to the end of every sentence, that deserves a question. Funnily enough, after our sightseeing tour of the city, my Dad and I had earned quite an appetite. We hunted around for a nice eating establishment to have a drink, and quick bite to eat. In the end, we strolled into a quite bar towards the back of the main street of bars and pubs. It was quite, with only a handful of fans in. As I walked in, I was stopped in my tracks by the doorman. My camera case had come to his attention and he asked to take a look inside. I had no problem with this, but he took the time to look me in the eye and explain, that in the current climate it was a necessary precaution. I understood, and opened my bag, to reveal my digital camera. We went upstairs and found a seat and ordered our food.

After lunch, we headed for the bar that my colleague at work had recommended. The Albert had now become the Yard. I called him and explained where we were. In the end, we gave up waiting, got a drink, while we soaked up the beautiful summer shine in the courtyard at the back of the bar. A large contingent of Chelsea fans had gathered. They must have been drinking for some time, for they had become quite animated, yet the atmosphere was quite friendly. A handful of diehard fans, started chanting various songs, to get themselves and the rest of us into the mood. It was approaching 3pm fast and we had to get a move on now.

The moment we had been waiting for, as we came across to Gate 7, I quickly purchased a programme and then followed my Dad to the stalls. My bag was searched again, but that was to be excepted. There were quite a few fans still making their way to their seats, but I presumed that most of the Chelsea contingent, had already taken their seats. As we stepped out into the stadium, I was amazed by the view and the atmosphere. Words can never truly describe what my eyes could see, and what my ears could hear. Taking our seats, just in time to watch the teams to come out. When we stood up to sing our national anthem, I felt a great sense of pride, if what somewhat misplaced. Here were are, the English singing our song, in the backyard of our Welsh cousins. As my players, took the FIFA handshake of friendship, my Dad offered his to shake my hand, in the deepest grated, for asking him along to share in this day. He was proud of me and for a split second, among those 58 thousand people, I felt like I should give my Dad a hug. Instead, there was no time for such father son bonding. The kick off was seconds away and the moment, the spilt second we had waited for, the referee blew his whistle and the football, all 90 minutes was slowly ticking away.

Prior to the match, I was confident of an Arsenal victory. Perhaps even by the margin of two goals. From what I had seen of the team in pre-season, they looked like they were slowly getting their game together. Looking like a team difficult to beat, and deadly on the counter attack. Chelsea fans now seem to have an arrogance, which leaves a bitter taste in the mouth. The chants, which over the course of the match, became accustom to included, "Your Not Champions Any More!!" For them, it was going to script. Drogba scored within 8 minutes, which caught us on the back foot. Our end erupted the moment, took the ball, controlled the ball and smashed the ball passed Lenhamm. They deserved the lead, but I knew Arsenal had the character to return. Following the goal, Arsenal finally woke up, that while this game did not matter, pride was at stake. An early defeat to Chelsea would put us on the back foot for the visit to Stamford Bridge, in two weeks time. We pressured, but Chelsea were alert to all our attacking ideas. If I am honest, we did not having anything new to offer. It was at half time, with three substitutions that the Arsenal of old came back onto the field. Gilberto, providing the solid rock ahead our defence, and Hleb, on for his home debut (well as close as we can get) who was now able to pull the strings in midfield and pass the ball over to Reyes over on the weeks. We looked like a more exciting attacking force, with much more potential up front. Yet, our eagerness to push forward left us exposed at the back. Watching Didier score his second, was amazing. He looked like he had completely hashed it, as we pushed back in numbers to defend the goal mouth. Yet, he was still able to control the ball and place it into the net. Sometimes, you have to whole up your hands to talent. That was a quality goal, taken with skill and ability. As the saying goes, a great striker always keeps his composure in front of goal. Perhaps this is the second chance, he was hoping for. Let us hope that this is not the sign of things to come.

Then, after a spell of heavy pressure, Arsenal put together some moves that are so easy on the eye and we found the back of the net. A rather scrappy goal, but they all count. Our end of the ground fell silent and my Dad and I just looked at each other with a knowing smile. Looking across the pitch, we saw the thousands of Arsenal fans in red, yellow, blue and white cheering! It was a great sight, even if I wish I could have been over on that side of the stadium. We were back in the game, but did we have enough to push for an equaliser. There were doubts in my mind. We did not appear like the well old machine, whereas Chelsea seemed gelled, even with some many new players on display. The Blues seem ready for the season ahead, whereas we looked still tired, trying to get our games together. Never mind, this is just an over glorified pre-season friendly. The real football starts next weekend.

After the game, there was the next hurdle. The journey home. We got out as quickly as possible, opting not to wait for the shield presentation. We caught the second bus back to the car park and got into our cat at 5.30pm, pulling out of the school, I estimated with my Dad that we would be back in Wycombe by 8.30pm. Three hours, was an over estimate. The traffic heading back was heavy. Stop start. Yet, I had BBC Radio One to keep me company all the way home. My Dad drifted off to sleep again. I couldn't blame him, it had been a long tiring day. We scrolled off the M4 at 9pm and did not get home until 10pm. My Dad insisting we stop for a takeaway, to take home. Overall, the perfect weekend. Sure, the score was not what I had wanted, but everything else fell perfectly into place. The weather was great, a warm hot summer's day, a friendly atmosphere, with both rival fans on quite jovial terms, knowing this was more an exhibition match than anything else. My memory from the day, will be driving on the M4, past a car of Arsenal fans, and young guy around 16 in the back of the car, shaking his Arsenal scarf at me and giving a fist up for our team. I returned a knowing nod. We were down but not out! Let me end with my own twist on the phrase, enscribed on the Millennium Centre. In These Bones, Horizons Win.

Saturday 6th August 2005

Unfortunately I am having major problems transfer my domain from UK2 to 123-Reg. I am not sure what exactly is causing the delay, but for the time being, please bear with me. You may notice that the main link to this site (t-e-g dot co dot uk) does not work. Please use http://teg.sibtain.co.uk for the time being.

Unfortunately, I will have to postpone my blog entry until later in the week. There are only a few minor stories to fill you in on. The Arsenal Members Day, which I attended at Highbury on Thursday. Plus the highlight of my weekend (if not the entire football season) The FA Community Shield, Millennium Stadium, Cardiff, Wales. I will be there tomorrow. Expect a full report later in the week.

Monday 1st August 2005

Those of you who attempted to visit my web site over the weekend, will have notice it was down. Appears that my prestigious host, Portland have either gone on holiday or gone bust! Even their site is down and no one is responding to e-mails. Therefore, this evening, my dearest friend Sippy came to the rescue. He is temporarily hosting a cut down version of my web site, while I search to hunt down a permanent home. To keep the site of this site, as small as possible, I have removed the photograph galleries. I will try to keep you posted with a detailed newscast on what is exactly happening, but for the time being please be patient and bear with me. Please only link to the site using www.t-e-g.co.uk and update your bookmarks.

Sunday 31st July 2005

Late last night I arranged to come over to see my local superhero. I had to hand over my Antec PSU, so thought I would make use of the time by also requesting The Simpson's, direct onto one of my hard drives. When I discovered that this was over 29gb in size for all fifteen seasons, I realised my old 14gb hard drive was nothing more than a brick of metal platters, chips and plastic. The other option, was to bring my XBox. It was almost exactly a year to the day, that Hussein had modded my XBox for me. I left Wycombe early on Sunday morning, with hardly any traffic on the M40. I had fallen asleep just after 2am, but got up before 7am and felt quite awake. My first job was to upgrade the software on the console, with the latest release. Then, I quickly burnt a CD of songs from last week's movie (in about 1 minute) and headed out the door. I arrived in Harrow just before 9am and waited for Hussein to open the door. I really need to find a portable storage solution, I can't take my black console box everywhere I go. We set the machine up and started transferring the cartoon show. After a nice cup of tea, came the highlight of my day. For as long as I have known him, he has talked about Empeg. To the uninitiated (I include myself among you, the Empeg is an in dash MP3 player. Well to be honest, that is a lie. It is so much more. Then some. Whenever we have discussed an in car, hard disc based mp3 solution, the only response I have received from my learned friend is this. It sounded great in theory, but I had my doubts of what it would be like in practice. In a car, you need to have instant access to your music. You do not have the patience (well I certainly do not) to be mucking around with menus, sub menus and other interfaces. You want to be able to listen to your music in drive. Yet, the Empeg (here a Mark Two model) resolves this major functionality issue and so much more. Let us start at 10am, this morning. Hussein opens the door to his Skoda Fabia and asks me to sit down in the passenger seat. Switching on the power to the ignition, his Empeg came alive and were listening to Billie Jean. I was shocked at the quality of the sound and the clarity of the bass. Yet, there were still factory fit speakers. The sound stage is enhanced by the use of 4 tweeters, rather than the average two you get in the front with the component set. This adds to the vocal range, just behind your head, if you are seated up front. I have heard this song a thousand (if not more) times and know it very well. Yet, in the car, it sounded clear, almost perfect. I was asked to be pick an artist and choice Ash, hoping that would bring up a huge selection of singles. Instead it bought up only Girl From Mars, which is still an outstanding track. It took a few seconds to bring up the artist and play the song. (The fact it was the only song for the group, did help a little). One of the greatest functions is the fact that that everything you listen to is logged. So you can recall how many times a song is played. It also has exciting unique features, such as playing 'pure' random, whereby no song will be played twice until you reach the end of the collection. No repeats, guaranteed. Something that never happens with the radio. You can search by date, album, artist, the possibilities are endless. You can randomly play songs by one artist, but over all their albums, so you switch between their early and more recent work. Each track is tagged with a special four digit code, which can be used to pre select tracks, so you don't need to search by artist or album.

It is no secret, Human Nature is one of my favourite songs of all time, even if based purely on my Audio Scrobbler listening figures. While Hussein was randomly selecting tracks, on came this number and he put up the volume. Having listened to this track in my own car, it was only now I realised the true downfalls of my audio system. Even from CD, the track cannot be matched when played in the Fabia. Amazing. This was the dream. Having my entire MP3 collection, at my fingertips. Yet as the player is open source and runs on Linux, it is constantly being upgraded. There are updates for everything imaginable and much much more. There is also a remote control to select most of the functions on the device. Yet the remote is nothing fancy. The great feature if from another device a PDA or in Hussein's case, his trusty Treo. The Smart phone has some software installed which allows you to queue up music and then transmit via infrared to the head unit and it begins playing these songs straight away. Just how in genius is that? Any device capable for sending infra-red signal can do this. Let us move onto to something more simple. Visualisations are not new and have been on modern stereos for quite sometimes. While they may not be as detailed as their equivalent on Windows Media Player or Win Amp, they do work. The Empeg device has a collection build in, but one just blew me away. Called, 'flancedoor', it is a stickman dancing along to the music. Yet it all depends on how 'busy' the song is and this is represented on how busy the dance floor will be. To test this out, I asked to Hussein to play Billie Jean again. Yes, it happened, the stickman moon walked. You have not lived until you have seen this event on a small dot matrix display. The only similarity I can find, is the Virgin Megastores advert, as screened at many cinemas. This photograph does not do the show justice! Those head spins are da bomb!

Saturday 30th July 2005

I woke up, coming to my senses, realising that it was Friday. My favourite day of the week. Yet, this morning instead of jumping out of bed with a spring in my step, I crawled to the edge, and squinted to make out the time on my stereo. then it finally it me, I had a painful headache, to the right and rear of my head. The pain was acute and I needed to take something for it. I got up and got some breakfast. My Dad and sister, observed I was in a either in a more thoughtful mood, or more likely grumpy than usual. I rushed my cereal and then started to get ready and took my first tablet as soon as I got out of the shower. Then I took a second after I was ready, dressed and heading for the car. I did not feel any better. As I drove into the office, I put my foot down on the bypass (when there was really no need, the traffic was light, as it is every Friday) and I blasted the CD playing on the stereo (which did not help my light head, whatsoever). As I walked into the office, I felt slightly better, but little did I know of the day that lay ahead.

Before I go, I need to dispel any myths that I am a lucky person. Far from it. Sometimes I am the very unlucky. I would even go to the extent of saying that when advertisers say that this will work in 99% of case, I am usually that 1% who has issues. So you can imagine my surprise and delight when I am lucky enough to win competitions and come out in front. This is perhaps the second time I have won something significant in my life. The last time around also being football related. Then, it was tickets for what would be my first match, The Netherlands against Switzerland in Euro 96. On Thursday I came home to see the usual envelopes left on my desk. Either bank statements or credit card bills, I rarely get anything else. I opened up a letter stamped from Newcastle. Opening it revealed a glossy envelope in the shape of an Arsenal shirt, in the new, one season farewell to Highbury colours. Looking at the bottom, I read, "O2 Members Day - 4th August 2005" on the reverse, in the place where you would have the players surname was VIP - 05/06 season (as the shirt number). I had won the competition I had entered a on Thursday 16th June. Randomly selected by a computer, I will be one of 8,000 lucky members of the Arsenal to watch the first team put through their paces in the final training session before the Community Shield.

That cleverly links us to my next subject. While at work, on an idle Thursday afternoon, one of the directors came up to the helpdesk to see me and report that Patrick had signed for Juventus (I was on the phone, so the Chelsea fan wrote me a note, while beaming with a smile!) Once I was off the phone with a customer, the conversation turned to the Community Shield, the annual curtain raiser to a new football campaign. To my surprise, I was suddenly offered tickets for the game! (How could I say no?) Within a few seconds, I was watching the purchase of two tickets for 7th August and was in a state of shock. Even now, it still has not realy sunk in. My tickets arrived the following Tuesday and I presented them to my Dad has part of his birthday present on 21st. My Dad, while not a big football fan, has longed to come to a football match with me and I'm trying to make up for lost time. Sure it would be good to go with a friend, but on this occasion, I think it is best that family come first. The Arsenal discussion could continue, as they take part in their final preseason machines in the Ajax Tournament. Yet, I do not want to bore you further. The match, shown live on Sky Sports on Friday, had slipped by mind, until I was channel surfing on Friday evening and noticed, "Live Football" appear on the screen when I flipped over to Sky Sports One. I sat down and watched most of the game, but it was not very entertaining, and usual, the goal was scored, while I flipped over to watch BBC News at 10pm. With hindsight, there was no point in missing Eastenders. Will catch the omnibus, later on this afternoon, I'm sure.

There have been many Beach Boys references in the past few weeks, which I thought I should mention. While surfing the movie channels the other night, I came across Charlie's Angels 2: Full Throttle, which I know has many critics. Yet, I have enjoyed both movies, the sequel slightly more than the first. It does not try to be too serious and the action scenes are quite imaginative and fresh. Plus, who can complain about starring at the three leading players? In a scene, which relates to my last comment, the Angels are on stakeout and the song that plays in the background, reflects what Cameron is doing. She is a Surfer Girl and the classic Beach Boys melody plays. Sometimes I do not truly appreciate the body of work this group have established. To remind myself, I listened to the Very Best album and all the tracks are there. I don't think I have mentioned this before, but one day in August, I am going to listen to back to back Beach Boys on a hot sunny day to work. Let us hope that August has a least some hot weather to give us before summer is out. In the afternoon, KnightRider was being shown on Bravo and I had one eye and ear on it, while I worked on the family computer. I was in the process of using the redundant parts of my old Mesh PC into the family computer, to upgrade the CD burner and USB 2.0 card. After the fantastic opening credits, KITT is playing a song, which Michael has to guess. He doesn't get it right (not sure why?) but it is California Girls and KITT complains that all his crime fighting partner listens to his music about surfing, the beach and bikinis. Maybe that car had a personality transplant in betweenshows. So what appeals to me about the Beach Boys and their sound? I suppose, they represent an image (if rather dated, now) of the American Dream. Clean cut college boys, singing great harmonies together about surfing, girls and the summer. Their sound and style is so unique and has been unmatched. Often imitated, no one can come close to recreating the feel good music they recorded at the peak of their powers. Even watching the great Brian Wilson at the Live8 concerts a month ago, you can see the same reaction to the music. It makes you want to move!

Now I am literally alive and kicking on my new PC, I can record live television, even pause and pick up from where I left off (but unlike Sky+, it can be paused indefinitely (the limit being only the space on my hard drive). On Wednesday evening, I attempted my first taping (I really should not used such an old fashioned adjective). The main reason for recording the show, was to have a record of a Gavin Esler happy ending, as refereed to by my friend Nav. Yet, the content of the show opened me up a new music artist from the Far East. A special report covered the growing 'pop' culture in Korea. Being exported to China, Japan and neighboring countries. The segment played a music video by a Korean pop artist, with the chorus line, "Your Still My Number One!". I had to find out the name of the artist and listen to the song in full. I e-mailed Newsnight on Thursday morning from work and got an instant reply. The producer in Korea had yet to report back to headquarters, but as soon as they had the information they would contact me. Tonight at 10.30pm, I received an e-mail from Pat Smylie, Production Assistant giving me all the details I needed. The artist was BoA and this was one of her first big hits in her native Korea, "Number 1". Apparently she is very big in Japan and the single was released in September 2002. You can guess what I did next, but I won't go into details. I will reply to Pat's e-mail with the gratitude it deserves.

Tuesday 26th July 2005

With Monday out the way, we get down to the bread and butter of the week. Two of my best online friends are actually friends in real life I met at University. So, in no particular order, let us take Nav. Naveen, is a would be blogger, but I hope his efforts in the future do him better justice. He came online this evening to inform me how is interview went in Peterborough yesterday and Newcastle today. Explaining that he was put through his paces, I was more interested in how he got to his destination. He had driven to Grantham and then taken the train and an extortionate return ticket. His next words hit me like a ton of bricks. Describing the weather, he recited the opening verse of Man In The Mirror by. I don't need to say who it is by, you should know. If you don't, you need your head examining. In an instant, I played the MP3 on my PC (the studio version, at the request of Nav!) An amazing song, which always reminds me of the opening to Moonwalker. In my head, I had an image of my friend, in his thin, black summer jacket, doing up the collar, as he has done on numerous occasions at Uni and a cold wind, blowing past him. Much like in the video, 'Stranger In Moscow'. He went on to say that it a line he remembers ever since since his childhood. Only my dear friend, could warm my heart with such images. I know things have not been easy over the past few months on the job trail, and I have done little to help, but I just wanted to let you know that all the hard work and traveling (particularly this week) is worth it and I wanted to let you know, I'm always here. (Online on MSN nearly twelve hours of the day.)

Sippy came online, at a similar time to Nav with the words, 'just read ur blog, wow, fantastic entry'. What else can I say? How do I respond to a compliment like that? I had even inspired Sippy to blog, after a few weeks absence. My friendship with Sippy goes back nearly five years now. We met at halls in the first year at University and have known each other since. While I was on placement and began this blog, he had started a similar blog, on his university site. As normal, my feeble attempt was surpassed by the creative ability of my friend. His Photoshop skills are second to none. Yet, in 2003, he gave up on blogging for nearly two years and only returned in March this year (after I threaten to kill him!). He had to send me some files, which he renamed, as only he can to a dot sip extension. Now Sippy, which program do I need to download to open this file? Nav, comes up with the most suitable response, "did he tell you use Sippy Explorer 6.0". :)

Monday 25th July 2005

I left work slightly later than normal, but remembered, I needed to hunt around for a song on CD. I knew for sure that it was one of the discs in my Case Logic case. Having spent last weekend labeling all my unlabelled discs, it was slightly (just) easier to track the song down. I got into the car and noted the time on my dashboard as I left the office, it was 18.11. As I pulled onto the main road, I had found the song I had been looking for, it was Hello by Sugarbomb, as noted in my previous entry. The energy of the song affected my driving and I put my foot down. The country roads were relatively clear, but this was little indication if the drive home on the dual carriageway would be as smooth. Sure by the time I got down the hill, to the main roundabout, there was a small build up of traffic but nothing out of the ordinary. As I pulled onto the by pass, I slipped the car into a lower gear, to push more power from the lousy 1.4 engine and accelerate up to a reasonable speed. Then, just kept on going, hitting not excessive but fast speeds. With Hello now on it's third (or was that fourth) run on the stereo, there was no stopping me. I was rushing to get home and rushed past cars that appeared to be standing still. As I went past the slip road, my last escape route was gone. Now I would have to grin and bear it if there was a build up of traffic ahead. To my delight, there was none, so I just get my foot pressed to the floor and sped up the hill. As I reached the roundabout, there was little traffic and I was ever so lucky with the lights (which aided my time considerably) and I rushed down the A4010 to my house, with a complete disregard for the 40 mile an hour speed limit (it used to be national, up to a few years ago, honest officer!), pulling onto my drive, I looked once again at the clock on my dash. It was 18.21, I had officially set a new world record. Leaving my car, I was presented with flowers, champagne and a certificate. Could it be done faster? Perhaps the German driver from Nuremberg ring could hit a faster 'lap' time, in a more powerful vehicle. Hold on, then again, she looks very familiar to the finance women from Saturday. Forget it!

I have been listening to We Belong Together constantly in the car now for several weeks. With most songs, I can clearly say how I feel about them, but also how I feel when I am listening to them. With Mariah, on this number I am completely lost. The soulful lyrics bring back memories from the past, but they seem so distant, so far away, that I do not know how I feel about those times, those people. The person there, has changed so much. Or perhaps, I have just gone full circle, going out and back into myself?

It is only now that I realize why Wrigley's have began sponsoring Hollyoaks on Channel4. Surely there must be other ways to make chewing gum sexy, rather than with strange thirty second spots at the beginning and end of the soap watched by over three million young adults in the UK. Oh, please bring back the days, of Free - All Right Now, with the original 1992 advert (you will need to scroll down for some screen shots!) That advert featured an MCI Westerner cross country bus!

Saturday 23rd July 2005

All of a sudden, I had weekend worth looking forward to on my hands. Yet, there was not the time to anticipate, before I knew it, I was on this roller coaster, heading to the peak of the big one. What would it be like on the other side, on the way down? I was about to find out.

I woke up early, to an eerie silence around the house, everyone else was a sleep. With my Mum and youngest sister over in India, there was the added feeling of awkwardness. My weekend morning ritual, should be well known to you by now. Instead of eating my cereal in silence, there is the added comfort of the soundtrack from the music television. As I have said before, I must be a really annoying person to live with. Perhaps going someway to explain, while I only do this in the morning. I surf the channels, 440 all the way to 473 and only stopping for a few minutes on songs I like. The clock was ticking and it was soon 8.30am, I had to get a move on. As usual, a 'I love this song' moment stopped me in my tracks, but eventually I dragged myself away from the television and headed to get ready. As I headed for the car, my Dad stopped me (for the second time) and said, "Thank you for the DVDs..." I smiled, as I headed out into the dull day. Today was going to be a make or break day for me. Little do I know it now, little will I know about it for years to come. I cruised to Slough, with my head in the clouds. It would only be a matter of time before something, someone would burst my bubble. For the moment, I was going to enjoy, living part of the dream.

Handed the keys, I saw down comfortably in the leather seats and turned the key, to hear the engine roar to life. The sound so unique, so special, so soothing. I pulled away and wondered what to do with the next four hours. Revving the engine at the red lights, I switch over to KISS 100. As I drove past Trade Sales complex, an smartly dress employee was crossing the road. His jaw dropped as he saw me drive past, stopping in the middle of the road to awe at the sports car. His face was a picture. Shape I could not capture the moment. I watch in amazement as I put my foot down to watch his reaction in my rear view mirror. The stereo CD player had what I original thought, Songs About Jane as Maroon5 - 'She Will Be Loved' was playing the moment I had switched on the electrics. Yet it was actually, Now That's What I Call Music Volume 59, so I skipped across some of the tracks and then found a song. Perhaps not the most ideal, but something I thought was appropriate for the lift off. Busted - 'Thunderbirds A re Go'. Those of you not from the south of England (or the United Kingdom for that matter) will be unfamiliar with a famous stretch of road. Perhaps the most famous stretch of tarmac in the whole of Slough. The Bath Road, or A4 runs across the town, linking it with Maidenhead and the M4. Most of the biggest companies in the world, have their UK if not European headquarters on this road. By it's very nature the road is extremely busy, with retail parks and big business centres throughout, which are broken up by an American highway style traffic light system. The speed limit is 40, but all the camera (three in total) are clearly visible. So, at the lights, you can show your street credentials, lightly touching up the gas pedal, as you look across to your driver across in the other lane. I looked in my rear view mirror and a young black women, was half asleep behind the wheel of her silver Nissan Micra. Just at that moment, my hears tuned into the song on the radio, Naughty Girl by Beyoncé Knowles. Need I say anymore? The car was quick, but in bright red, I must have looked like a bit of a joy rider, and I felt a presence of several cautious eyes. The 18" OZ alloys, looked the part, just a shame there is the name of perhaps the most famous true German, (after David Hassleholf, of course) planted all over the car.

I came home and did very little, but to attract the weary eyes of my neighbours who were clearly just stirring from their Saturday morning lie ins. There was no one to go and see, no one to come and enjoy this special moment with me. It is shame really, I have often said that without the people around you to share in your aspirations, the aspirations tend to lose their value. Heading back to Slough, I knew I was about to sign up to something that was perhaps, just a few racks above my station. Was I really ready to make this sort of financial commitment, so early in my life? While the finances have never been in question, this added strain would perhaps cost more to me than British Pounds Sterling. Salesmen are a funny bunch, yet when it comes to the crunch, they move aside and let someone else come out with the calculator and do the real work. The gloss is gone, the voice is stern, the language is forceful and at times demeaning. I hate finance people, particular the brand the come in the opposite gender. Sure, I should not judge, after all she was just doing her job. Yet, looking beyond her Gucci glasses, came their air of a women, with more at stake than the sale of a single automobile. I was so disappointed that, when she pulled out her hand to wish me goodbye, for a spilt second, I stared it and did not want to return the gesture with a handshake. I did, nevertheless. For, life is about rising up these people, regardless of the situation. Having written to the Managing Director, turned out to be a waste of time. What does it take these days, to go from a meaningless number in a queue of faceless nobodies? When I find out the answer, I will be sure to share the secret with you all. For the time being the dream fades away, to the other side of the world.

Driving home, with an unpleasant taste in my mouth, the reality slowly started to kick. Perhaps today, I made a decision, that I will go on to be grateful for the rest of my life. The process I was going through, I will describe, as stepping back into myself. When I got home, there was good news. My replacement motherboard had arrived. As excited I was by this news, it did not hold the same level of ecstasy as it would have done, over a month ago. Yet, I put this down to a mixture of experience and bad luck on my part. (Or is that the same one thing?) After a quick lunch, my sister departed to go shopping, as most girls do on a Saturday afternoon. The destination was Reading, so they would be gone some time. Composing myself, after my lunch, I motivated myself with the small incentive, that when I was finished my PC would no longer randomly shut down or reboot. That was enough to get me off the sofa and start rearranging the living room into computer building workstation. I took my XBox off the network and grabbed my toolbox. I meant business and there was no chance that this motherboard was going to let me down. Funny, how with the added knowledge, I had gained from over a month ago, I was working, almost blindfolded to get everything in place and together in time. There was only one response to seeing my monitor light up with the ASUS boot screen, I punched the air and let out an all mighty scream. (Just a bit of frustration coming out there!) Windows XP SP2 was loaded without a single hitch, this was too good to be true. I am Andrew Tegala, something must go wrong. Quickly I installed my wireless internet link and while here, upgraded the firmware on my Netgear router. Then, came the task of transferring across all my personal 'stuff' from the old Mesh computer. It took nearly half an hour to transfer the e-mails, documents, and web sites (including my beloved blog) but it was well worth the wait. I was making excellent time and then began the task of transferring my world famous audio collection onto it's new home.

While all this had been going on, I had been playing music television to keep me focused and provide some light background music. There was also the rare occurrence of ITV screening two Bond films over four hours on a Saturday afternoon and not a Bank holiday in sight (not for several weeks at least!). I needed a quick lift me up. It came in the form of a song. Blue have always been a favourite boy band for me. Perhaps giving me some street cred with the ladies. (Who knows?) While I feel the first member to make a break for the debut single, looks lost without his band mates, Webb, Simon, is a different prospect. He knows the industry, having formed and then seen the break up of his own group, VS. So, perhaps his debut single, 'Lay Your Hands' is perfectly pitched, with all this in mind. I was down, with a strong empty feeling inside. Not only had I let myself down, I had let other down, pursuing an achievable dream, too heavy hearted, too soon. Almost in an instant, I was comforted by the soulful lyrics of Lay Your Hands. You can listen to a snipped on the official site, which counts down to the single release.

I saw the tv spot for it last weekend. I don't want to call them commercials, when really they are just advertisements, or rather trails for an up coming movie. This was one of those movies that I never got around to seeing. I even missed the opportunity to watch it on DVD. Although, perhaps towards the end of my second year at University, an x-rated disc was kicking around. This was the jewel in the crown of my weekend, sitting down on Saturday night to watch a stupid, pointless teen flick, purely to laugh and be entertained by outrageous American comedy. As my Saturday afternoon panned out setting my computer, I was able to get my TV tuner working, so had the option to watch it in the comfort of my own room, rather than having to watch it over in the living room. Surround sound was hardly going to make a major difference, now was it? In fact, I started watching the movie in the living room, but my Dad wanted to watch something else, (TCM anyone?) So after quickly eating some delicious chocolate ice cream, I headed back to my room, to enjoy the movie in the privacy of my own room (please don't take that the wrong way!). I regret now that I had not seen this movie with my Uni friends, as it would have the been perfect way to end the second year. Channel 4, usually save their network premieres for a Sunday night 10pm screening, so this was a rare event in itself.

The most outstanding thing about this movie is... well actually there are two things. The amazing, soft rock soundtrack, which I will around to later. The other is the Indian character. Played handsomely to a 't' by Kal Penn who on the back of this movie, went to co-star in a movie for himself. I think you have to agree that he steals the show. Those whom know me well, know how much I hate Indian people speaking English, (particular Bollywood actors). You get the impress they are trying too hard? Anyway, Penn is able to reach the happy medium between fresh off the boat and Westernized coconut. You can slowly watch his progress, under the wing of Van Wilder, during the course of the film. He reviews more about his up and coming plans in a candid interview from April this year. To summarise, there are plenty of Penn movies to keep me busy over the next few years. Sure, some may be in poor taste, but I am not one to judge. (I always wanted to know what FOB meant to Americans?)

Let me quickly take you back to a blog entry from the archives, Friday 13th August to be exact (no, I did not plan it like this!) I discuss a movie I had watched the previous Sunday, 8th August, last year. The film was OC (not related to the television series at all (which, as you well know, I have not seen and aim to catch in weekly installments once I get around to getting the DVD box set). I am sidetracking, let me return to base. The OC, started Tom Hanks's son and was in the same mixed up genre as this number, or rather the tentative steps to college rather than those seven wasted years spent there! The most intriguing aspect of both these movies, was the use of the same song to end the movie (well the visual elements anyway!). Hello by Sugarbomb, is one of those driving songs, that not only lifts you, it has the energy to take you to another place. The use of this track alone would have been significant and more than a coincidence, but there are so many other tracks on the album (most of the better ones are missing) which go hand in hand with the notion of the story. College kids, having fun! Sometimes, I think you Americans do not know how lucky you really are. Perhaps they are too blind to see that they live not only the land of the free and brave, but the land of opportunity. Not only is college a period of coming of age, the American system is far more 'brotherly' (or sisterly) because you can join one of many fraternities. Back to the music, before I lose my thread. There are numerous songs, some which I had heard before such as A Fool For You, by American HiFi, but numerous others that I had never heard before. Sugarcult boast three outstanding tracks for the movie, with my favourite Bouncing Off The Walls (Again) with sexy Tara Reid featuring in the video. There is the catchy, almost country sounding, Girl On The Roof by David Mead, which is a classic. (Within in minutes you too will be humming long to the chorus hook!). A great song, to describe the leading roles, who are forever searching after each other, is Okay by Swirl 360. What more can I say? Perhaps a little more when I have obtained the remaining few tracks. I will perhaps come back to some of these songs and many more, when I get around to burning them on CD and listening on the car, on a pleasant British summer evening, as I drive home from work on a Friday.

Tomorrow, Sunday I will be back, back to my normal life, the dream is over. I have a feeling it will rain and be a miserable day. The weather often reflects exactly how I feel. Trying to be positive and look at the plus points to my u-turn decision. You never know, perhaps in years to come I will come back to this blog entry and say that in the end I made the right decision for me and my future. Who knows?

Friday 22nd July 2005

The way the week panned out meant that Friday was going to busy, I knew by Wednesday that I would be under pressure to get laptops and PDAs out of the door by Friday, 3.30pm. The morning, therefore was busy, trying to meet this deadline, but this led to an afternoon lull, with a handful of calls coming to the helpdesk. As we headed for the busiest period of the working week, I expected to be overwhelmed but instead took two calls in the space of a few hours, when I would usually be taking up to six even eight calls. The day was dragging and I started to look forward to my weekend. The office gathers an eerie quiet around 5.20pm, when most of the staff have left, on time (sometimes early) for the weekend. There are is just me answering the phone to potential 900 reps, give or take a handful on holiday.

I left the office at 6pm sharp, aiming to be home before 6.30pm. The by pass was congested yet again and I had to take the scenic cross country route. Coming into my room, I rushed to get changed, switching on my television to Channel 4. Just in time, Hollyoaks was just about to start. Yet, I could not sit down and relax, I had to get ready and be out of the door within the hour. I grabbed some food, before heading off into the car and over to Reading. Under normal circumstances, I should have taken the motorway route, M4, A329(M) but opted for the A4 cross country route, via the picturesque village of Sonning. Arrived at Pav's house at 7.35pm and unlike a few weeks ago, when we went to watch Batman Begins, we were in the Rover 216i and heading for the Oracle in no time. I had not paid much attention at the time, but the movie was to be shown on screen 4. Someone at the cinema must have a sense of humour. But actually. this screen is the biggest and with the best digital surround sound and seating. It was the first time since Toy Story 2, that I had been in this particular screen. Taken six years for me to watch a movie in here again.

As I mentioned on Thursday, the Fantastic Four are great band B super heroes, much like The Phantom or The Shadow. That is not to say the are not great crime fighters in their own right, with special superpowers to match the likes of Superman, Spiderman and Batman. I just feel they do not have the same mass appeal, as the gang of three, whom have a much popular following. Nevertheless, I came to the cinema to be entertained and it was what I got in abundance, along with some fantastic comic screen moments. What makes the movie work is the fact that you have four very different people coming together for one purpose. In reality, we all know that the Thing and Human Torch would never get along, and the writers have exploited this somewhat. The star of the show in my eyes, is Jessica Alba. While her performance in Sin City, was great, it was more of a bit part come eye candy role, which is shame, as she has so much more to offer. Here, placed centre stage, you get an idea of how well she is developing as an actress. The fact she is easy on the eye also helps. She is one of those people (few exist, believe me) that could wear anything and I mean absolutely anything and would make it look good. Even in this movie you see her, in mean superhero mode, in spandex, but also looking every bit the intelligent scientist, in a white coat and glasses. I still cannot believe that just over ten years ago, I was watching this young starlet on one of my favourite children television shows. When I saw the trailer for this movie, I expected more action, which was one of the main reasons I came to see it on the big screen rather than wait for the DVD. Overall there is something for everyone here and a great way to waste away a few hours. It may not have the impact of other superhero movies, particularly in comparison to reason attempts, but it makes up with the lack of twists and turns, with a solid plot, trying to explain the emotional responses to the gifts given to the main characters. (Johnny, perhaps gives the modern celebrity generation reaction to a new found talent!) Stan Lee as expected makes a fleeting cameo appearance, but I wish they had used him more. His character is more than a stand in part, as he has made in the Spiderman movies. The film leads up to a major battle between the Four and Dr. Doom, but I think this was played down for one reason and one reason alone, leaving the door firmly open for the Fantastic Four Return. Until then, once you too have seen the movie, only one place will be able to cater for your longing for more FF material.

Wednesday 20th July 2005

Middle of the week, and the penultimate week of July. Summer is whizzing by fast, yet I see myself being stuck in the autumn, perhaps a-ha were right to sing the lyrics to (Seemingly) Nonstop July. Not sure how to explain how I feel, work is constant, but nothing exciting to report. Outside of work, life is just as dull, if not worse. Nothing new to report I am afraid, life ponders onward, this blog being the only place I can truly try to reflect. While most people decide that December, a month in the summer, or perhaps the month of their birthday is their favourite, my choice is slightly different. The latest (and perhaps final) single from Green Day's album American Idiot is entitled, "Wake Me Up When September Ends". I feel the complete opposite to this song title. September will always be my favourite month, with the children back at school, the summer, slowly drawing in. I suppose the fact that it means a clean slate and a fresh start, it has found a special place in my heart. Suppose, I was different, I enjoyed the idea of going back to school. Unlike everyone else around me.

This blog tries to steer clear of any political discussion, it has a place on other blogs for the more intellectual minds of our time. Yet, there are times, that politicians from any walk of life, persuasion and background say things that put you into a state of disbelief. While I could dedicate this page (and many more) to George, I feel it is his Defence Secretary, who is the true, jewel in the crown. The Poetry of DH Rumsfield reads like a talented artist, trapped inside the body of man, wishing he was doing something else. (Perhaps changing the world with his words, rather than his countries actions?) Who knows, I thought I would just share it with you. The Unknown poem, while at first reading appears to be a muddle, makes perfect sense, if you remember to pause at the right moments. Perhaps because it is so blinding obvious, it staggers belief that someone would go to the length to actual make it one of their trademark sound bites!

Thanks to Sibtain, who has carefully edited my Guestbook page, you are no longer able to leave entries. The main reason for this is the level of spam I had been receiving on a weekly basis had reached an alarming level. I could not spare the energy to go in and remove these entries manually almost every other day. Gratefully there is no more spam. While we are on the subject, I was trying to think of suitable punishments for spammers. Torture with Cliff Richard records, played back to back? Any useful suggestions are always welcome and will be passed on to the relevant authorities.

Going to catch yet another installment of superhero action on Friday night, with my friend Pav, at the Vue in Reading. Although for a change my expectations are considerably lower, as I am not a major fan of the franchise, even if the the cartoon in the mid 1990s was something I would never miss! Perhaps because even though X-Men was the better action adventure animated series, the closely knit team of the FF, was more enjoyable to watch.

Sunday 17th July 2005

Nothing major planned this weekend, apart from a small gathering for my first cousin's first birthday. Nothing major, but a special moment for a new family. So that was Saturday, but in the evening I decided to sit down and watch a movie on Sky. This was the first time in months that I had been able to enjoy a Saturday night premiere in the comfortable of my living room. Thanks to Sky's MultiStart, I was able to select my start time. Originally I was going to watch the scheduled screening at 9pm, but by the time I got myself off the computer it was very late, so I went interactive and tuned into the 9.45pm screening, which was due to start in seven minutes. To create the perfect atmosphere, I switched off the main lounge light and switched on the table lamp on the side. Perfect. Volume on surround sound, up! I had been invited to watch this movie on the big screen, last May by some Uni friends. I remember it was a Wednesday, because they were using the Orange Wednesday two for one tickets. Possible the last Wednesday in May, a few days before I left Leicester to return home to Wycombe for good. To cut a long story short, I declined the invitation, as I had other more pressing things to do, like begin packing. So finally I had a chance to watch the film, knowing already that I should not expect too much. I would describe Van Helsing as fantasy adventure, it could have been darker, but the director, producer opted for a more light hearted approach. As entertainment goes, it was well worth watching and some of the special effects were amazing. If you liked The Mummy or The Mummy Returns, you will like this (and not just because they are from the same director). Sure the plot is a bit more far fetched, but Kate Beckinsale does help easy the pain, being quiet easy on the eye. The ending was a bit mushy, but understandably so. I have a feeling we won't be seeing a sequel (or prequel for that matter). Sometimes, I think we forget that films are there to entertain us and not just fill in a few spare hours when we have nothing better to do. Sure, I could take some time finding further wholes in this movie but there is no need. You know what to expect from the opening scene, and it does well to meet and sometimes surpass your expectations. I am not a big fan of Hugh Jackman, but he is a good action hero, but not quite the accomplished actor, let's say like Tom Cruise. The subject matter intrigues me, so a quick hunt around the web, brought up this ready made mix. If only more people would create pages like those, it would make blogging a much easier process. I would mention a topic and then just create a quick hyperlink. Oh well, hunting around Google is not too bad!

Today I was hoping to go and meet up with a friend, whom I had not seen for ages. Unfortunately, he was not feeling well, so we decided against it. So, with a free afternoon ahead of me, I decided what to do. Cleaning the car, was high on the list of priorities, but I also needed to sort out some of my paper work and do some shredding. At lunchtime, I grabbed some food and my sister scrolled down the Sky Movie channels. One of Murdoch's controllers was in the mood to take us back to the 1980s. One of my favourite movies, from my favourite year of all time was on Sky Movies 2, while on the next channel, they had my favourite superhero film (possibly of all time), Superman II.

Watching the climax of the movie, bought back so many memories. Thankfully, there was another screening at 6pm, this evening, so I added to the Personal Planner. Everyone knows I love the 1980s, but I remember watching this movie recently on a Sunday evening on five but perhaps blogging about it slipped my mind. Never mind, I can make up for that miss opportunity now. The best place to start is IMBD hub and move on from there. The movie works for one reason alone, because Michael J. Fox adds something unique, some average boy next door humour to this tale of a hero having to wear a mask. I will also admit that when I first saw this movie, I had a major crush on Boof, played by Susan Ursitti. (What can I say, I had a thing for the wholesome sweet girl look) The most memorable part of the movie is the 'van surfing' which introduced me to the sounds of the Beach Boys for the very first time. It was such an outrageous concept and looked so cool! I think I have said enough, time for some images. Note to self, I should really get some screen capture software and stop taking photos with my digital camera.

More than half way through the summer and I appeared to have achieved nothing. Nothing seems to be happening, nothing new to report. Same old, same old, as the saying goes. Empty. That is how I feel, like I am running on empty. Hopefully, just around the corner will be the spark to get me going and the luck to see me through. God knows I've been in for a bit of a rough ride recently. Something, even I do not deserve.

The amount of spam I have been having on my guestbook has become intolerable and I will be looking to remove it from this site very soon. The worst entries are those people thanking me for a 'great site' then advertising their major wake up juice or property development in Kazakhstan.

Tuesday 12th July 2005

I got home late this evening, late by my standards, as I only live seven miles away from the office. The journey home should take me around twenty minutes. Although yesterday I got close to beating my own record of fifteen minutes. My foot was on the accelerator all the way until I reached the Handy Cross roundabout. The roads were clear and the traffic was light, it must be coming up the school holidays. Today was a complete contrast and there was more to come. I left the office at 6.05, noting the time on the dash, as I drove out of the car park because I was a few seconds behind my manager. As I got onto the by pass I noted a heavy build up of traffic but nothing more than usual. As I came up to some heavy standing traffic, I thought nothing of it. Otherwise I would have taken the earlier exit. I assumed that the main roundabout at junction 4 of the M40 was busier than normal and I expected to be home by 7pm, 7.30pm at the latest. As the evening drew on and I spent ten, then twenty minutes without moving a single yard, I came until the impression that I was going to be here for a long time. My CD collection kept me sane for a few hours (while other commuters in their cars, would have considered me insane). I do not listen to the radio and keep the traffic announcements off. Sure, perhaps I should switch them on, but most of the time they are irrelevant. I also hate my music being interrupted, particularly when I am singing along! By the time the clock struck 8pm, I was seriously considering abandoning my car, but then decided against it. Only to see a handful of people, park their cards to the side of the dual carriageway and make their way on foot. There are two matrix signs over this major A road, yet they remained bear. A week ago, their were informing drivers of the road closures to the A43 due to the weekend GB GP. At 8.40pm, my patience had been tested to the limit. I was hungry and my body needed fuel. At the first possible opportunity I parked up, behind a P&O lorry, incidentally. Taking out my bag and putting on my jacket, I must have been quite a sight on the road. On this hot summer day, casually walking down the side of the road. As my luck would have it, the local police had been able to get the traffic moving, so I would have been advised to remain in the car and make the final part of my journey home. In my stubborn ways, I had opted to walk and headed home. The most puzzling part of all this for me was why nearly three hours of delay? There was nothing noteworthy when I came onto the roundabout and carefully maneuvered myself around the traffic lights, and cars. The police were actually finishing off their operation and a policeman sped past me on foot to jump in his patrol car. As I got in and took off my jacket, I looked at the clock on my stereo. It was 9.02pm. I left the office over three hours ago and my evening to date had been spent in the car, running out of music to listen to. I was glad to be back, but there was a few things to clear up before I could call it a night. I was more than slightly peeved to have missed the 7.30pm edition of Eastenders and opted to watch the late night repeat on BBC Three. I still needed to collect my car, but my sister had promised to do that on here way back from Slough later this evening. In the end, she could not, or rather would not, so I had to catch a lift from her to go collect it at 10pm. It was now that I saw the wreckage of a dark coloured Ford Fiesta, being picked up by a recovery truck. All this delay for a minor accident? Where is this country heading? With car finally on the driveway, the adventures of the day were finally over. Lesson learnt? Found a permanent alternative way to and from work. Perhaps this is the wrong time to grown a conscience for mother nature and consider the environmentally friendly option of cycling. My response to that is dream on!

I need to mention one of my dearest friends and some time blogger, Nav. (Using the adjective some is pushing it to the limit, trust me!) We have had discussions, sometimes heated about Newsnight and our favourite presenters. While I prefer the stern final words of Jeremy, my ex house mate prefers Gavin Esler for his, 'happy endings'. I know what he is trying to say, but I always go for real and raw. You need to be reminded that even with all this grand plans going on all over the world, you have work tomorrow, so get yourself to sleep. Naveen, however must prefer the gentle, softly spoken words, wishing you goodnight, almost in a whisper.

Monday 11th July 2005

Felt like I had gone back 20 years when I stepped into the car this morning, to drive to work. While it was tempting to just put on a CD and reverse out of the drive, I opted to listen to the radio. I was greeted by a familiar rock n roll soundtrack and put the volume up... I mean up. An instant beam of a smile lit up my face, to reflect the bright blue skies way above. Everything is alright, I hear a voice whisper in my ear. Perhaps because when I am driving, I am concentrating on something else and the worries of life disappear, at least until I reach my destination. For a split second I felt like Michael J. Fox, though I was not in a black 1985 Toyota Pickup, but a silver Peugeot 307. But with Huey Lewis & The News were trying to explain to me that it takes more than a credit card to take the strain, I was beginning to realise the true, 'Power of Love'.

Last night, I decided to sit down and watch a movie for a change. Sunday nights are a mixed bag for me usually, rarely given the chance to sit down and relax. The day had been spent polishing the interior of the car and giving it a thorough clean inside. My next job was mow the lawn, in careful preparation for next week. The gardens (front and rear) looked untidy, if nothing else. A further few weeks of neglect and a jungle would appear, meaning a struggle for our twenty year old Flymo. Making the right decision, I quickly cut the grass this afternoon, taking a little over an out to do both gardens, which relatively speaking are quite small. There is nothing better than the smell of freshly cut grass on a summer afternoon, as you drink ice cold Coke, carefully surveying your work. Proud, of my small weekend task I headed into the house, and spent the rest of the afternoon online.

Whenever I am online, I open up the Radio Times TV schedule to find out what is on now and very soon. On Sunday, I noted that the film, Blast from the Past was on Channel 4 at 10pm. Instantly, I remember the DVD cover with the two leading names in a warm embrace. Yet, to date, I had not seen the movie. In the lounge, I was channel surfing (yes I must be very annoying to live with) and noted there was nothing really on television. Channel 4 was over running with their coverage of some reality show, you may have heard of it. On Sky Movies 8, there was yet another teen movie that I had not seen, staring one my favourite musical artists. Murdoch, by tradition is prompt, so the movie started at 10pm sharp, while Channel 4 was still airing commercials. I watched the opening, with the geeky outsider, making a fool of himself, while having delusions of grandeur. Now I had a very difficult decision to make, do I stay in the living room and watch Cannon with Milian. Or do I retire to my room to watch Fraser and Silverstone? With their arrival my family made the decision for me, and I headed for my room, crashing out on the bed and watching the rest of the movie. It was nothing more or less than I expected, a simple, if somewhat outrageous. Having read all the reviews and comments on IMDB I had pretty up made up my mind that this film was watchable on pure entertainment value alone, I did not have high hopes for anything beyond that. The perfect way to end, a relaxing weekend. Even if the news was not quite what I was looking for.

Saturday 9th July 2005

The weekend comes around again, but I'm taking the time to relax and have a break. Last weekend was hectic, even by my low social standards, so need to recuperate. My weekend beings the moment I walk through the door on Friday evening, around 6.30pm. I know I have tried recently to describe the feeling inside, but it difficult to put into words. A wait is lifted off your shoulders knowing the next two days are your own. I hate to admit this, but I have started to add Hollyoaks to my soap watching 'must see' list. I even have to tune into watch the following days episode on E4 at 7pm (I seriously think I have a problem). At 7.30pm, it was time for some music, so the surround sound volume goes up and we flip around from MTV all the way to Flaunt. I asked my sister for a pen and scribbled down some tracks on the back of an envelope. I was tuned into The Box (449) watching the latest music videos on First Play Friday. The highlight of the music week, this is the only place to see the new videos from the greatest artists and debut tracks. Those of you old enough to remember the 1997 one hit wonder by whitetown called Your Women, featuring a 1920 silent movie video, will perhaps be shocked to discover that it has already been covered. (There should be a ten year curfew on these things in my humble opinion) The man to attempt to rework this classic, is Tyler James. Rework is used as loosely as possible. All he seems to have done is increased the tempo of the backing track and jazzed it up a little. Never mind. I quickly switched over to TOTP to catch the second return of Craig David. The song was vintage CD, but I just feel his style is losing popularity, particularly with girls. Back to Sky, I continued music channel surfing, hoping to catch some more material that I would need to download later. I could the end of a song on Flaunt. The music sound familiar, for I remember hearing in the car last weekend, when tuned into Kiss 100. At the time, I had not been able to catch the name of the track or the artist. This time around I made no mistakes. Para Beats featuring Carmen Reece. Now, if you are going to be pop star, you need an exotic name like that. She could well be a movie star. ;) What can I say about the song? It is something that you would listen to while driving in your car, on a bright sunny, summer day. The bass line and the vocal come together very well and I look forward to hearing more from this up and coming artist, hoping she does not disappear into the bargin single bin, like so many before her. The single was released in April, so I am surprised that it has taken me so long to discover the track. There was little media exposure, so perhaps the record label have tried to built up interest via this remix on the radio networks.

I have spent most of the afternoon and early evening downloading the best live performances from the Live8 concerts from around the world. A very nice man, from Canada has uploaded 90% of the songs from all shows to this following link. Surprising most of the videos downloading within a few minutes, I expected his server to have fallen over a few times by now. All the videos will be transfered for viewing in full surround sound glory on the XBox later this weekend. Enjoy!

Sunday 3rd July 2005

My Saturday dived, I was hoping for more from my Sunday and yet another visit into Central London. This time the transportation of choice was four wheels. Originally the plan was to drive with my parents direct to the hotel in Canary Wharf. This changed at the last minute, with me driving around the city, waiting to meet up with my Mum and Dad. London has so many radio stations, but I also discovered a strange, 'Economy Mode' on the 307. If the engine is off for exactly 30 minutes, the rest of the electric components are switched off completely. You can count on the French to come up with these pointless life saving technologies. My Dad took over the driving, as we headed to the Britannia Hotel in my favourite part of the City. You could see the HSBC tower in the background, as we drove onto the Isle of Dogs. Those regular readers will know about my visits over to this part of the world, last year, before I started my late shift at work. I never knew before why I loved the area so much. Originally, I stated on this blog that it was because I felt I was stepping into America, with all those skyscrapers around me. Yet, after doing some reason into the area I have discovered my true love for the area lies in my favourite decade, the 1980s. When the Docklands was being developed, the company commissioned with the construction, ran into financially difficulty and actually went bust in the stock market crash of 1987. Olympia & York, a company that perhaps represents my way of doing business. Have the most ambitious plans, that everyone knocks, complete your project, but in the process become liquidated.

I digress, the wedding was beautiful, as all Indian weddings I have attended have been. Getting the chance to catch with friends and family whom I have not seen for many years. I wish I could have stayed for longer, but the fact that we had driven in, meant we were on the road just after 5pm. Is your wedding day, the only day when you are completely in control for 24 hours? I am not too sure, but having been invited to so many, you notice the personalities of both families coming through in the presentation and execution The traditional western tradition of having speeches was well done and well appreciated by all those in the banqueting suite. While sometimes I wish things were different, I realise that there is nothing I can do to undo the misgivings of the past. People just have to learn to forgive and forget. Awkward silences, doing the best to avoid glances, is a waste of time in my humble opinion. When my time comes, people will stop, listen and reflect. I will make it so.

Saturday 2nd July 2005

Today, was the day. Things should have been different, I should have been there. I know in an alternate reality, I would have been there, perhaps with those who I no longer see or speak to. Today was not a day for such misplaced regrets and looking to the past with a sense of loss. It was about making a change and doing the decent thing, helping your fellow man. Perhaps for the first time in my life, I felt selfless and wanted to do something to help others, more than any point previously in my life. The cynics will say, that a punch of concerts around the world will do little to change the life of a continent. I beg to differ, I think raising awareness, opening our eyes to the plight of these people, gives us a opportunity to want to help others like never before. Yet, I think it goes beyond the political will of eight men. The problem is far greater, the problems deeper rooted and it will take thousands if not millions to bring a prosperous future to the one place on this planet that has lost wealth, while the rest of the world continues to enjoy it. Much more than a story state of affairs. While I was watching the television coverage, late on Saturday evening into the early hours, I tried to picture the number of children that had died, in pointless circumstances due to poverty. When you consider that the suffering is preventable, you too want to make a difference.

While I had every opportunity to sign the petition online, but I wanted to make my position clear in public. I had already seen the Live8 petition stand when I had arrived. So, straight after the movie, I headed across to add my signature. The process was rather amateur, a young blonde girl was using a notepad with 3G card to add the stack load of signatures to the site. Having signed, I felt I had gone some way to making a difference. The reality was I was gutted for not being given the chance to be there, but I felt helpless having to watch the live footage on television.

If you did not know, you will know now, that my life is never simple. A weekend can be turned on it's head by one minor alteration. So, you would think an afternoon and evening in Central London would be simple. Not in the crazy world of Andrew Tegala. On Thursday evening, a news flash on BBC London News headlines (after the main headlines from Huw) showed the worse site for a rail commuter from this side of the world. The collapse of a tunnel at Gerrards Cross meant days, if not weeks of delays for rail users from the Midlands into Central London. As it happened, this too was the journey I was to take on Saturday. Therefore, I grabbed my PDA and tried to find out further information, even attempting to browse, the Chiltern Railways web site. The line would be closed for at least two days and a replacement bus service would be put in place. This was the last thing I needed, so I considered my option. I could drive to Uxbridge and park in Sainsburys. Or, perhaps slightly closer, go over to Chalfont and catch the tube from there. On Saturday morning, I pondered between the two stations, with Uxbridge way in the lead, based on familiarity stakes, but in the end I opted for secure all day parking, which is never guaranteed in a supermarket.

I was out of bed by 8.30am, but wish I had got up slightly earlier. By 9am, I was out of the house and drove to the other side of town to wash the car and carry out the usual weekly maintenance checks. Coming home, just as the rest of the household were getting up, I decided how to fill my next few hours, before I headed off. The car needed a quick hoover, so I rushed out and gave it a very swift clean, just to make it look a little better inside. Then it was a quick shower, before heading into town to do some quick errands before I drove up the A404, towards Amersham. I parked in a almost deserted car park and headed into the station, it was coming up to 1pm and the station was dead. Sure we were on the outskirts of Buckinghamshire, but I expected more of a crowd, not sure why. I paid for my travel card and was informed by the friendly ticket attendant that the next train was at 10 minutes past the hour, fantastic, just a few minutes wait. The Metropolitan Line takes me directly to Baker Street, one change and I'm a stone's through away from Leicester Square. I got off at Piccadilly Circus and walked the few minutes across to the famous square. Busy, as I expected, there were several trailers parked up and looking into the garden centre, I could see a stage being setup. Something was happening, or about to happen. I walked passed a Police trailer giving the public safety awareness information and spotted a familiar face in the crown ahead, as he turned back around. It was Ian from the famous house pound, Four Poofs & A Piano Then it clicked, it was Gay Pride Day in town. This would explain the various colour outfits worn by men, dressed up in drag. There was a great atmosphere around, with everyone having fun, even with such a strong yet passive police presence. I headed across to the cinema to collect my tickets and spent a few seconds starting at the big movie poster above my head. I was really looking forward to this movie.

Meeting up with my friend, we headed over to Haagan Das, for some ice cream and tea. My food consumption up to this point in the day was just some soggy corn flakes and I was very hungry. Yet, I needed to save room for some popcorn. The doors to the theatre had opened by now, so we rushed across to get to the cinema, which was already quite busy. Taking our seats, I felt I had made the wrong decision. Perhaps a seat on the upper tier would have been a better experience. Too late now, the cinema was quickly filling as the advertisements played. Pearl & Dean? I'm afraid not, just Carlton Screen Advertising and not a patch on the masters, but never mind. We are here for the movie, not for the commercials. By the time the movie came on, I was really excited. Would it live up to the hype? I suppose, this is summer blockbuster for me (even taking into account what I am about to write). Last year, it was the Spiderman sequel, which I really enjoyed. I love Tom Cruise. I suppose, apart from the understandable height issues, he is the one man on this planet I would like to be. It is difficult to describe, but with that toothy grin and charismatic charm, he is a rare beast. A smooth white man. (Does that makes sense? Is it politicially correct?) Do I care? No. What I am trying to say is that he gives off the sort of a persona of a man that always makes an impact. He walks into a room and people stop and stare. He is a highly accomplished actor, even if I have not seen his most complete work, Born On The 4th July (sorry Paul, I will get around to it sometime!) Steven, without a shadow of a doubt is my favourite filmmaker, even surpassing the great Alfred Hitchcock. So, with those names behind this picture, surely it cannot fail. Well, unfortunately it does and that it because of the ending. I will not go into the details, I have no need to spoil the experience for you all. The first hour is amazing, breathtaking and highly compelling to watch. There are some interesting twists and turns as you begin to realise how bad humanity reactions to being threatened by an unknown force. Yet the constant question you keep asking yourself is where is this all going? Unfortunately, Steve does a bad job of handling the plot, so the pace drops towards the end and it never really survives. Our hero does a fine job, but I would have liked his character developed further and the relationship with his children placed under greater scrutiny. There are always more questions posed than answered with this movie, which is a shame because the original master piece by HG Wells was special. When a movie lacks purpose, it loses momentum. I expected much better from this A star team. Leaving the cinema, I felt deeply disappointed. There is almost a schoolboy, year 9 English class, ending, which no teacher would have ever accepted. I would go as far to say I would not even rent the DVD, I would wait for the movie to be screened on Sky Movies to watch it. Quality, stay in Saturday night movie. A shame, because Cruise, as one of my all time idols, deserves so much better.

Tuesday 28th June 2005

Watching Eastenders, as I do every weeknight apart from Wednesday, I noticed the sky grow grey and the spitting droplets of rain form on the window. Nothing new about rain in England, sure. Then, I paused to stare outside, the lightning flash lit up my street for a fraction of a second. Then the eerie silence before the thunder clap miles away, coming around the house like a natural surround sound from up above. Minutes away from the cliffhanger ending to my beloved soap, the satellite signal dropped, I felt like I was drifting back to 1999 having to revert to terrestrial coverage. The rain was heavy now, the heaviest I had heard it in many years, but if it was only going to affect the television signal, I had no major issues, for I would be watching very little for the rest of the evening. Coming into my room, I heard the rain pouring down up above my head and became aware that my internet connection was down. After several attempts to reconnect, I gave up and switched off all non essential electronic appliances and switched to good old fashioned pen & paper.

If someone with the medical or perhaps psychology background was asked to analyze my dreams, I wonder what they would find. I rarely remember then, yet some stick in my mind, if only for fleeting memorable moments. So take great pride to be welcomed into the nocturnal world of Teg's recent dreams. On Sunday night, I finally drifted to asleep around 2am, perhaps later. The only moment of any major significance is a meeting. Out with my work colleagues, I am tapped on the shoulder by one of the manager's and introduced to a Doctor. While I perhaps would have preferred it to be one of the fictional doctors from television or film. It was Dr. Rice. Yes, Condoleezza, or as she is commonly refereed to by George, as Condie. The appearance, was bizarre to say the least, but my reaction was strange. I was in awe of meeting a statesman (okay, women). I was speechless, from what I can remember and words failed me. She said something on the lines that it was a pleasure to meet me and I was doing a fantastic job! Not sure how much of a difference I truly make, but she obviously thought so. With the whisk of some CIA operatives, she was escorted out of the building and onward with her tour (of England?) Are my dreams trying to send me messages? Perhaps it is a campaign by the Bush administration to plant the seeds for the next race for the White House? Who knows? Even the latest search on Google News does not give any clues!

With the thought of seeing War of the Worlds, this coming weekend, at the back of my mind, my dreams on Monday night were more on the side of surreal. While the chances of me meeting Rice are very slim, they are not completely out of the question. From what I can remember, I am on board a ship, with some other nasty characters, but trying to escape. I did eventually escape, but heading into the jungle, I discover that I have weighed myself down with of all things, CDs. Then I realise that I am carrying the last archived version of my MP3 collection and therefore guarding it with my life. Rather pathetic, that this would be my chose as the final worldly possession I tend to keep. I did a poor job of protecting the discs, remembering the final image before my memory goes blank, is the shiny circles reflecting the sunlight, stretched across the green green grass. What does it mean? I know nothing. Thankfully, it has not been since my time at Sheffield Street, winter time, two years ago, when my house mate Nav would inadvertently push up the heating, to uncomfortable levels, that my dreams would fall into the outrageously freaky box. Perhaps I should try harder to remember my dreams? Any advice would be greatly appreciated, I will try anything, once!

Monday 27th June 2005

The last Monday of June already? Can you believe it? Can you believe that a year ago, I was starting my second week at one of the biggest law firms in the world? There was several times last year, when I made that trek to the capital, when I thought to myself, where would I be a year from now. Now that I am at much better place, I appear forever ungrateful and tend not to look back at where I was once. While I miss the sights and sounds of London, there is much that of the rat race, I detest.

Stateside, a major victory for the corporations against the peer2peer software developers, puts the whole notion of file sharing on hold. Not sure what you opinion would be on this, but I have now grown up being able to 'obtain' almost any song almost instantly and have it playing in my car the following working day. While certain individuals may feel this is not how consumers should be experiencing music, they have been slow to embrace the new medium. I still not understand how they can compete with free. We shall see what happens? For the moment, I am safe, or so I believe.

I listened to my portable DAB radio for the first time in several months last night. I could not sleep and wanted to listen to some music, rather than the nightly Five Live. I surfed around, on the electronic dial and listened into 1Extra. They were playing some soca music, which I actually quite enjoy and the song that was playing took me by surprise. A feel good, summer anthem that you could enjoy in the car. Thankfully, with digital you get much more than simple stereo audio. On the screen, appeared those magnificent words, "Now Playing" and I was able to take a mental note of the song title and artist. Yet, by the time I got to work I had completely forgotten and had to consult the BBC web site. To my surprise, tonight I discover that this song could be, by Hollywood. Indeed the camp star of Mannequin (one of my Dad's all time favourite movies) actually has quite a good voice too. I am still hunting for the track, having only been able to listen to thirty second snippets on various US based web sites. If you anyone has D Soca Zone 5th Spin, released last year, I would be utmost grateful, if you got in touch. Oh yeah, almost forgot, the name of the song is, "Shut Up". Need I say anymore?

Two weeks have passed since that day and I feel only now the burden of that day falling from my shoulders. Nearly a month you were out of contact. Too long for some. I watched the news reports, I gazed in the distance, the news footage outside the court house, holding my torch for you. Yet, on your return you are catching up, which by all means is understandable. Looking back, the verdict had more about proving a man innocent, than proving my feelings true. Seeing it now, I feel such a fool. Hanging on your every word, be it by SMS, MSN or on the phone. I do not doubt that your heart is true. For my own intentions were never far from your own. I deserve more in return for my efforts. Yet then again, I was always trying to live in the shadows. Trying to try Living with Michael Jackson. There was never any competition, I was doomed from the start. Perhaps the unexpected comeback will bring it not, these romantic news bites, but new ground breaking, record breaking material, to show the world, including those doubters, you are made of sterner stuff. Just a shame I suppose, that your love was never able dry my tears.

Sunday 26th June 2005

Watched the video for the last Destiny's Child single on CDUK, yesterday morning. While the content of the video did not surprise, it was the lyrics that shocked. The clock has gone full circle. Let me explain. It was in the autumn of 2000, that the RnB group, arrived on the world stage, with their soundtrack to the Charlie's Angels movie. I think this was the moment, which saw them break down the barriers and appeal to a whole new audience, young and old. The song was special because it stood alone, without reference to the movie in it's own right. The mantra then was of independent women, able to stand on their own two feet, which I fully understand. Now, as the girls depart on their separate ways, less than five years later, the tune has changed. While I do not mind a bit of cheese, this final song, 'Cater 4 U', has a chorus that makes you sick. This is not what a girl group stood for and I am sure the Spice Girls, Bananarama and even Maggie Thatcher would be giving more than a frown.

Summer is here, yet I still feel my summer is yet to arrive. The lack of updates, with any depth perhaps say more than anything I could ever express in words. Most of the events going on in the outside world are alien to me. Tennis, while a great sport, is just too unbearable to watch. Particularly as everything is on such a knife edge. Matches can drag out for several hours and an early lead can be wiped out with fatigue late in the day. Give me football any day. Simple scoring system and none of these tie breaks (which I still do not understand). If I am frank and honest, I feel even now, tennis is still a middle class sport. Yet, it will forever have fond memories for me, coming home from college, walking through the living room, to see both of my sisters glued to a Tim Henman semi final. Then there is the annual British music festival, which usually focuses on Glastonbury. Never been a fan, I have to admit and not really been in the crowd that did that sort of thing. Although a colleague has gone down for the mud bath, this weekend. While a small selection of the musical talent may be to my tastes, I have no real desire to get back to the basics of nature. Each to their own, as the saying goes.

On this quiet lazy summer Sunday, I was decided upon what makes the perfect chill out tune. Home by Michael Bublë came on and I sank back into my comfortable leather chair. Work, which in years gone by would have been a monstrous prospect, flittered in the back of mind, but with a mild gentle warm push, rather than a major crash of realisation. If only I could stay in the void that is Sunday evening forever.

Another aeroplane
Another sunny place
I'm lucky I know
But I wanna go home
Mmmm, I've got to go home

Wednesday 22nd June 2005

Never been a big fan, particularly in recent years. While I do not doubt, she is stunning and still holds that magic, her focus dropped from the music onto the peripheral elements of show business. Yet, it is only now, I feel she has returned. It was the early 1990s, when her soulful, innocent voice, wholesome naturally beautiful features, gave the package of angel, untouched by man. Sweet Fantasy leaves less to the imagination now, than it ever did then. While I may not have been taking as much notice of her celebrity status, I have been waiting for a hit single, in the same vain as her original material. It has taken nearly a decade, but it has been worth the wait. 'We Belong Together', has everything a soft ballad needs, but the soulful vocal touch, which only a unique women could add, makes it sound so much sweeter. Perhaps I should go the full distance and buy Mimi. Watch this space, or rather this page.

The weekend was the story of three Doctors, which I forgot to mention. The series finale of Doctor Who, with a swift and rather unimpressive regeneration. The saving grace, was the fact that we long to see how well David can match up with Chris. If it was based purely on the sound of the name, I know who my money would be on. I think, I am not alone in thanking Eccleston on a job well done, bringing back not just a character from the dead, but giving him life, credibility and some of the staying power, we expect from all our super heroes. Yet, Dr. Who is not like any other comic book hero. The sense of mystery that surrounds him, his over blown arrogance, his willingness to sacrifice everything for the human race, that wide eyed smile and those big hears. I hope Dave, does his own thing and doesn't try to be a CE copycat. How long is the wait until the Christmas Invasion?.

Oh yes, I did say three Doctors. The other doctor makes a fleeting appearance on Saturday morning show, Ministry of Mayhem. Played by funnyman Peter (his surname does not work for my family orientated web site) a bungling European scientist (a mixture of German and Scandinavian tongue) he carries out mad experiments each week. They don't make Saturday Kids television, like they used to!

A close, dear friend was to departs off MSN last night. He had decided to uninstall as it had become such a distraction and annoyance in his life. Thankfully, tonight I find he has decided against it, so I am glad to be speaking to him while I write this entry. I could not live without MSN. It is the crown jewels of my net experience. The funny thing is, I was a very late adopter of the software and have only started using it regularly in the last six years or so. Hardly anyone at college used it, so there was no need to come online. The most important feature was being given instant notification if you had a mail message. Yet now, it is the first thing I use at home and in the office. Read this article to find out why!

Finally making some progress of getting my faulty motherboard replaced. I have to go back to the retailer and it should be organised tomorrow. Then I can get my PC built by this weekend. I will be grateful to once again have a stable system that does not reboot itself every few hours and constantly come up with a blue screen of death. While, I am told all it needs is a format and reinstall, something tells me that there is something more seriously wrong. Thankfully I have copied most of my crucial personal data onto CD or portable media. Just a case of building the new PC and copy over the MP3s. Then I am happy, but will my PC last that long? It is not just on it's last legs it is on it's last microchips. Talking of which?

Saturday 18th June 2005

Friday at work is always a breeze. Don't ask me why, but the thought of the weekend perhaps, keeps the level of calls at bay. The hot weather did not help my concentration levels, it felt as humid as it was last night in Reading. My MSN contact list did stand the test of getting me through the day. I was chatting to Pav, but true MSN is blocked at his workplace, he has to revert to the Java based, E-Messenger. The only problem with this is that sometimes, we do not get the full conversation, so over the cause of the day, a simple conversation is broken up. He gave me a link and I had to go and have a quick read. Then I had to take it one step further and post my fifty pence. Should I go into Maidenhead tonight? I thought about the offer for the rest of the afternoon, considering it in detail. There was a reason to stay at home, a big reason. Yet, I decided to venture out for a quick drink. Not sure really why but there was something about meeting up with my friend again. Leaving at 9pm, I went out and was shocked by what I saw. So many young people out drinking, some looked as young as 15. I felt odd and out of place. The music did not help. Does he play any proper music, I asked Pav, whose friend Paul was the DJ. No, just funky house most of the night. I know as much about dance music as I know about the Commonwealth of Independent States. In short nothing and I could not distinguish one genre of dance music from another, it just noise to me. (That does make me sound old fashioned!) I discovered that perhaps there is no need to join the hoards of people out on a Friday and Saturday night. I would much rather be on the computer, as sad as it does sound.

For six years I had waited and planned this moment. Yet, even for me, the seasoned control freak, you can never take into account something failing. I ordered my PC via Overclockers UK on late Wednesday night. The plan was to have all the components delivered by Friday for a weekend build. The plan, came together and everything worked out, thanks to some neighbours holding onto my goods for a few hours. Nothing was touched until Saturday morning, that was the price I paid to go out and meet my friends. Looking back with hindsight, I made the right decision. I woke up at 6.30am, sharp and then set about my task. I unpacked all the boxes and then made sure everything was present and correct. Then a quick breakfast, followed by a shower and then the major task began. It was 8am, the sun was shining, but the cool morning breeze filled my room, as I opened the window.

Overcome with confidence, not just in my ability, but in how quickly I was getting the job done, by 10am, I was about to begin testing. Everything had been followed by the book and I had done my best to follow all the instructions by the book. Then, after discussing with Pav, I felt originally that it was a display adapter problem, so headed out into the afternoon heat to find a PCI graphics card. In the end, I was hit by daylight robbery by a corner shop PC building centre. You know, the small independent retailer that sales everything on a minimum 60 percent markup. I had no choice, I had to pay. It was the only way I was going to get my PC working. Or so I thought. It did not work and after several hours messing around, just before 5pm I gave up. It was a faulty motherboard but I needed to prove it. I had been running on the buzz of the new PC since the early hours of the morning and had not eaten until now, early evening. It was not until I sat down on the sofa, that I realised how hungry I was. The day had passed me by, because I was focused on my goal. (Yes, I am a workaholic, but you knew that already!) A few more phone calls and late into the night, it was 11.30pm, when I finally decided to call it a day. It also meant eating some humble pie and going back to my Mesh.

While beating myself up about it most of the day, it is only now I realise there is no need to get so worked up about it. It is just a pile of plastic, transistors and silicon and I am better than this. I hope when I get my replacement board, I will have a better cycle of luck.

Friday 17th June 2005

Never before in the history of this web site, have I had such a backlog of entries to post, searching to find the most important events that need to be mentioned. Where to begin? What exactly to say? Take a deep breath with me, as I take you from the dark alleys of Gotham City, back to the residential streets of Carlisle Road, Slough. So, flash back to yesterday.

Regular readers of this blog will know my love affair with most super heroes. I suppose, deep down it is this longing to be able to jump out of my mundane 9-5 existence and do something amazing, fantastic and life changing. Some would consider this just because I have a 'thing' for dressing up in costumes. (That is just a down right ugly rumour, washing around the dark corners of the net.) I am the first to admit that my life is quite empty and at times I lack purpose. I am a drifter, which is not necessary a bad thing, but it is the complete opposite to a superhero. It is this aspiration to have a goal, a justice to defend, that makes me watch in wonder at the man (or women) on screen in awe. I suppose, as long as there is evil and wrongs taking place in our reality, there will always be a place for super heroes in our fantasies.

This was the biggest anticipated film for me, this year. I saw the first film trailer, on my XBox several months ago, and my father and I were amazed at how sinister, edgy and true to the comic book the prequel looked on the screen. This was of course based on a few minutes of a trailer, but it was the atmosphere created that gave everything away. As noted previously, Pav had blown me out when it came to Sin City, so we promised to meet up and watch The Dark Knight. As usual, his busy weekend schedule (and in hindsight, my own) meant that we had to go Thursday night. I did not mind, but straight after work, I came home for a pit stop, change and headed back out down the bypass. Even though I had requested for my sister to take my car, she let me down (as would be a reoccurring event). It was a humid night, as I drove over to Caversham, knowing not exactly where Pav's new house was. Sure I had seen the photos, but it was twilight by the time I got there and the maps I had printed from Multi Map I had accidentally left on my desk at home. I called and spoke to his sister Div, who competently guided me to the house. This was the first time I'd linked up with my college friend at his house since 2000. More on that story, later.

I would highly recommend you go back and watch this movie. It is perfect introduction for the creation of a legend, with the only flaw of perhaps a good story, that is poorly linked together. Personally I would have wanted more time for our hero to be created, to fall and then be built up again, fall again and then dust himself off for the final battle. Instead you watch a great young man flounder into the life of petty crime, only to be saved by extremists, he does not agree with. Christian Bale is inspired as Bruce Wayne and has the stronger screen presence than the previous two incarnations, but needs time to match the quality of Keaton. Keaton was special because he was a relative unknown coming into play a character that was bigger than him and able to give him life. The movie works well, even if some of the most important aspects of the plot are given in flash back. Katie Holmes is perfectly cast as the brave DA, although perhaps the villains lack the same star billing status. Michael Caine does well as Alfred, but I preferred the original, there was a sense of quintessential Englishman about him, that a legend like Caine could never possess. It will be a box office smash, the merchandising will pick up again and five will start screening the original 1960 series. (Didn't Channel 4 do that in the early 1990s?) Let's just hope Warner Brothers don't lose the plot again! I am sure a loyal band of followers, will let them know, in the strongest possible terms if they ever do.

My friendship with Pav actually goes back to 1998, when we both started Henley College. We happened to be in the same A Level Business Studies class and it was from here our friendship began. It was one of those moments, when we just clicked. I can't really describe what happened. We just share a great appreciate for the same things. We had the same mobile phone, same bank and always got the same things. To this day, we have the same phone (Nokia 6230). This was turning out to be a trip down memory lane. Leaving his room, I noticed a number plate above the door and took a photograph.

This was from the now departed to live graciously in car heaven, Proton. The runaround Pav had when he passed his driving test in July 1999. Perhaps I should say the details of the whole story for another day, but it was the car that took us to see The Phantom Menace. For now, I leave you with the grainy image of all the remains of the car. God Bless it. The nostalgia continued, when I stepped into his family 316 Compact. This was his 'ride' at college and I can recall some of the major cruising we used to do. I suppose, what I am trying to say is that I have a deep felt appreciation for my friend, perhaps I want to be him.

Monday 13th June 2005

I had been scanning the BBC News web site regularly throughout the working day. In fact, it was borderline obsessive. There was no real news, so I carried on with my working day. Midway through the afternoon, I contemplated in my thoughts, how much this was just an average Monday. The phones were not busy, but the list of jobs I had to complete were growing at an alarming rate. Yet, somehow I persevered and got through. 6pm sharp I was out of the door, in the car and heading home. When I got home, the signs continued that it was the beginning to another tedious week, my Vodafone mobile bill was lying on my bed, having been left by my Mum.

My evenings after Eastenders are spent on the computer, usually chatting online, reading blogs or posting on forums. Way after 9pm, there was a different feeling in the air, I just sensed it. Talking to my friends, a few joked that the verdict would be announced as soon as today, rather than tomorrow or later in the week. I was surprised by this and rushed across to FireFox and hit the home icon. Up came the screen I had been secretly anticipating all day at work. 'Verdict in Jackson trial expected'. I took a step back on my chair and switched on my stereo, permanently tuned into Five Live and there was nothing. How did I feel at this exact moment? A strange aora came over me, as I became to realise, something was about to happen. For once again, the moment was going to be bigger than me and live on in history. I rushed off my computer, abandoning my online friends and headed for the living room. For the first time in ages, I confiscated the Sky remote from my Mum and switched over to BBC News 24. I was just in time, the final jigsaw on the media entitled, 'trial of the century' was about to be put in place.

I caught the action (sorry, this sounds like a review for a film, rather than a defendant arrival for the verdict) just as the SUV's left Neverland and a helicopter tracked their every move on the grainy California highways and byways. The motorcade was driving in perfect precision, with the exact same distance between the four vehicles. (You may not have noticed, if you were listing to the rather negative and bland BBC commentary.) The fallen idol returns to hear his fate, it was gripping stuff and I was on the edge of my seat, not knowing exactly what the final outcome would be.

Glued to the TV, just like on September 11th 2001, this time the feelings ran deep. This time it was personal, because they were trying to bring down my hero. The man whose music I had grown up with, dance to, cried to and even partied to. His future, the future of his children, his family all hang in the balance. Some thousand dedicated fans had made the journey across to Santa Barbara and were waiting for this day for the past few weeks. I knew two of them there, perhaps more from the forums I frequent. The motor cade pulled into the court house car park. This was business. Even my Mum was glued to the television now.

While the other family members came out, I looked out for when and how Michael would be making his final court appearance. As he came out of the car, you saw Tom rushed up and chase hands with all the family members. Then, with umbrella open, they made their short walk into the court. The soft tab on his back from his lawyer, gave me some reassurance. It was a brief rest bite, as my heart started pounding at excessive speeds. Enough of the circus, down to business, the voices of the fans were drowned out as the BBC footage switched to see Michael make his final pass through security. It was nearly 10pm, so I gave the main television back in the hands of my grateful Mother and headed back to my room. It was here, that I picked up several conversations that I had just dropped some thirty minutes before. Switching on my television, I noted Huw, giving some background to fill in the time before the clerk would read out the verdict. Talking to my friend Nav, I found him have a sudden change of heart. He was with me, he wanted Jackson found innocent. Something I had believed all along, but it was at this witching hour, that my friend had suddenly changed his mind. For once last time, I opened up Win Amp and played Human Nature, drowning out Huw and the scenes from Santa Barbara. I lost myself for several minutes in the song, ignoring my friend, who had thousands of things on his mind. Meanwhile, I was also opening up Windows Notepad and making some brief notes for this blog entry. There was so much emotion, so much energy going through me, I had to record the vital pieces of information. The images changed on my television and I hit the mute button. The verdict was about to be announced. I held my breath.

My hand fell to my chest as I tried to measure just how quickly my heart was racing. What did destiny, or fate have in store? The images will stay with me forever, of the fans lined up, like rioters behind a barricade, with posters, hats, and silver gloves. The image of the lady, letting doves out into the blue sky, will remind me of the day. The day in history. As each count was read out, you heard the cheer of the fans, 'Not Guilty'. Another dove was let free. With every passing moment, my heart sank down in relief. Justice had prevailed.

Today was the most important part, not what happens tomorrow, next year or in the next five. Sure, I long for the return of my idol to the top of the charts, to the level of popularity that everyone loves Michael. While some say, he will never relive the glory days, I feel there is potential for this one man (yes, he is just a man) make one of the biggest comebacks in entertainment history. If surrounded by the right people, they could put together an beautiful package which sees new material, a new tour, combined with some special collaborations. Anything is possible.

Wrong for me to take the limelight out of the significance of this evening. This is the turning point and we will never forget this day. It will be something that your grandchildren will ask you about, when only the legacy remains of the man, they once called the King of Pop. I was on drugs, I was full of energy and really wanted to write this entry, then and there. Yet, it would not have made sense and would have given little insight to the roller coaster ride of a fan. The television went off and the focus returned to the most important aspect of Michael, the music. Anne, a major MJ fan, recommended Unbreakable, which I duly played at high volume. Then I needed to be taken back. I needed to be taken back to October 2003, when I heard the latest song for the first time. It was special then, but oh so sweet, pure, even innocent now. One More Chance. I remember my house mate Paul playing it none stop for over a week, I remember, my other house mate Nav listening to constantly on his laptop. Special times. Magic memories forever in my mind. I melted away, realising that this one person had given me so much. You cannot over state, that this one person was the soundtrack of our lives, as we grew up, took those first steps and learned to dance, like a Smooth Criminal. Perhaps something more appropriate to listen to would be, "Man In A Mirror", but for me, there is only song that brings together the artist in a few minutes. The chorus, of question, with the only one answer, Human Nature.

22:18, I received a text message from a friend. The news flash was unnecessary, for I knew the content myself. It was the thought. Thanks Anita. I just wish it had be coming from another.

Sunday 12th June 2005

Audio update, for the first time in six months. Rather depressing reading, unfortunately. Single collection has only grown by 100 songs over the past 6 months, equaling downloading one song every other day. My collection of albums has not really grown for over a year. I blame this purely on the closure of various BitTorrent sites which I use to use extensively. My collection overall is in quite bad shape and I need to undertake an extensive pruning when transferring over to the new PC next weekend.

People often tell me that I spend far too much on recordable media. At the time I bought my TDK Cyclone drive, in July 2002, I made a promise to only purchase and burn onto TDK discs. Certain sites over media as cheap as 20p, I have always paid around 50p for my discs. It is worth paying the extra for the quality and piece of mind, knowing that the disc will play in every player and last for years. I kept this promise over the past three years, ordering around 50 discs in bulk. I still have 20 CD-Rw discs lying on my desk but wanted to keep them for their sole purpose, which is to archive my MP3 album collection. So this afternoon, I rushed down to Staples to pick up an emergency supply of discs. Looking at the shelves I noticed to my surprise the number of DVD related media in relation to CD. The format has really picked up the pace in terms of consumer everyday use. CD based material was quickly going to be replaced by DVD as the preferred format of exchanging data. The reason I rushed out and made this purchase was to sort out my audio collection in the car. I had been creating discs at the drop of hat, without paying attention to quality and therefore always searching for something to listen to in the car. There are only a handful of new tracks that I listen to and the rest are a mixture of newly discovered songs from the 80s and 90s.

Friday 10th June 2005

Friday again, with us more than half way through the year. Time seems to be passing by and work consumes me more than anything else. Sometimes I feel I don't really have much of a life outside of the office. The fact that I have been working solid since 16th December, with not a single day off, might have something to do with it. My Manager made the comment, in jest, that he still hasn't seen a holiday request form in my name. If I am truly honest with myself, going on holiday is not the major hurdle. Not having the friends to go on holiday with, is. While I agree their thoughts of a holiday would be very different from that of my own, I miss them and wish there was a way back. Yet as you drift apart and the years past you realise that it is harder to reunite. I should not let this bother me as deeply as it does. I should move on, instead of holding on to ghosts of the past. To cover this empty feeling, I fool myself into thinking that I do not deserve a holiday. No, I am right, I do not deserve a holiday right now. Afterall, there are other things we are setting our sights on.

Are you a Kipper? Unfortunately, I joined this budding brigrade of misfits a year ago. Rolling into the mid twenties and still enjoying the creature comforts of home. Who do I blame? Well there are some opinated readers of BBC News. While sure, affordable housing is a major factor, the British relunctance to rent is closely second. Stuck in what can only be described as a wonderful void. A mixture of the real world on the outside, but inside is a strange dream world. Not knowing when you will land, with a bump onto hard ground and hard times. While I may not be planning my escape yet, I hold onto dreams of disappearing to the land of golden opportunity. You never know, worst things have happened.

Finally, after years of talking about it, I have placed myself on the Season Ticket Waiting list for Arsenal. Along with my membership introduction pack, which arrived this week, I also received my certificate. This confirms that I am in the long queue waiting to purchase a season ticket. My number? Wait for it, 33,001. If Arsenal dot com is to believed, then only an extra 13,000 tickets have been made available for the first season in our new home, over at Ashburton Grove. Therefore, I will be waiting for several years and be luck to be in my mid thirties before I can make the most crucial, life changing purchase of my life. Reliant upon the number of people that do not renew their seasons tickets each season, which must be just a handful. Looks like I will be paying for my Prem Plus season ticket, for several years to come. Of course there are benefits of being an arm chair supporter, but I long to sing along from the North Bank and cheer my team onto victory. There is of course the final game at Highbury to look forward to. The struggle for that one ticket, will be well documented, right here.

Tuesday 7th June 2005

Have you ever been part of something big? Something so big, that it is bigger than you and the few thousand people around you? I never have and regret it. The long road to redemption, began on Monday morning at 8am. For the first time in over 18 months (perhaps longer) I switched on my radio to tune into the Chris Moyles Breakfast Show on BBC Radio One. The only reason I made this change was to hear the question for the Live 8 competition. I entered once in the morning and again, when I returned home in the evening. I may enter a few more times later this week, but feel uncomfortable doing so. If lady luck is to be shining down on me, I do not need to push my chances too far. If the computer is to select me, it will select me. So, the long wait until Sunday when those 70 odd thousand pairs of tickets are chosen.

My first computer arrived on Saturday 6th June 1992, yes almost thirteen years ago. So, now on my fourth computer, it is time to build again and after several months of talk, I am about to finally do some walking. The specification has been detailed and the order will be placed late next week. My demands have changed, I am not a gamer. (Never really was a gamer, I have never won a game without cheating!) My XBox sits lonely in the living room, with some twenty games, that I have never played. The PC to be born in a fortnight, will be quite basic. The main breakthrough, is having a TV tuner card installed, so I can rid of my TV / Video combi and gain back some much needed desk space. Otherwise, the only major change is much more storage, memory and a DVD burner. Light accessories, such as a new web cam and wireless headset (for Skype) will be added later, once the damage to my wallet has subsided. However, I must say that my Mesh PC has done me proud service over the past six years, taking some considerable mileage in that time. Looking back there is not many changes I made. Upgraded the CD burner, replaced the DVD drive, with an additional hard drive, to hold all my Mp3s. Upgraded the memory and added a USB 2.0 card. Apart from those few changes, the backbone of the system remains the same. To be honest, I am surprised it has lasted this long, with several journeys up and down to Leicester. The operating system has been Windows 98 from factory. In October 2000, on a late Sunday evening, I decided to load on Windows ME, which lasted a few weeks before I reverted back to Windows 98. In June, Friday 19th June 2003 to be exact, I took the major step of installing Windows XP. (Further details in the archives.) Until now, it has been very stable and never caused me any problems. In the past few months, it has been constantly rebooting. While I fixed this, instead of rebooting, the dreaded blue screen of death appears, which means that you have to reboot anyway. I know exactly what the problem is, one of my memory chips is faulty (most likely the original stick of 128mb) but I cannot be asked to fix it. Instead, I let this stupid cycle continue. The PC therefore crashes every evening at least four times, sometimes even shutting down makes it crash! I am desperately running out of space on my dedicated audio drive, which is 14GB in size, with a wafer 378mb free. Hopefully, within a week I will have a shiny new computer, which runs at super fast speeds. May help several things, but won't make blogging any easier.

One man forever in our thoughts this week, more so than the past few months. Justice shall prevail but I know little about the court case taking place thousands of miles away. Therefore, I shall look to the future. I was never lucky enough to see Michael perform live, even though he has toured this country extensively, particularly in the early 90s. Yesterday evening, before my beloved Eastenders, Real Story investigated the pop star's next move. What I found most interesting about this documentary, was how our fallen idol, will make his return. This will be the greatest comeback of all time. An album, a world tour, a worldwide hit song, that takes Michael straight back up to the top of the charts, where he rightly belongs. A final farewell to a career that has spend three decades and bought us some unforgettable magic moments. Sure, I hear what you are saying? Has Teg officially lost the plot? The man's future still hangs in the balance with eight men and four women holding his fate in the hands. Sure, I do not deny the fact that there are more pressing issues to be dealt with and face. What is wrong to look to the future, to the world away from wall to wall coverage by Court TV. For do we not gain strength from knowing what we were, more than what we have become. If Peter Pan never grew up, then his magic, his dreams, never die.

Sunday 5th June 2005

In prospect, another boring Saturday. Determined to make things different, I text my friend Pav and asked if he wanted to go see Sin City. He replied instantly, as he always has done and it bought back memories our texts during college. He was in Southampton and had already seen the movie on Friday night. We agreed to meet up soon and perhaps catch Batman Begins on Friday night. Saturday morning was disappearing and having already been into town to carry out some jobs, I took a comfortable seat on the sofa to see what was on television. It was around 1pm and there were some big World Cup qualifiers taking place across three continents but I was not really interested. The showing on Sky Movies was appalling and after lunch, I fell asleep. Waking up at around 4pm, I dragged myself onto the computer. Perhaps there was one person who would want to go and watch this comic book action movie with me? I had mentioned it to Hussein briefly on Friday evening, so I grabbed my mobile and text him. Yet again, a swift reply with a positive response. He was happy to meet up an go watch the movie at the Vue cinema in Harrow. While I waited for his arrival on MSN, I quickly rushed over to the Vue web site to check the times, it was coming up to 5pm and I would be cutting it very fine, if I wanted to catch the 6pm viewing, so I recommended the 9.10pm screening. All confirmed, I booked the tickets and then tried to familiarize myself with where my friend lived again. (Give me a break, it was around 9 months since I had last been to his house).

The schedule from now on in was very tight. I had to keep my appointment with the Doctor and then rush out promptly at 7.45pm to get to Harrow in time for the movie. I quickly had some food, got changed and watched the final part of this weeks episode in my room, then headed out. The M40 and A40, were relatively quiet so that part of my journey only took fifteen minutes. It was here on in, that I made some stupid mistakes, which is unlike me. The directions I had recorded from Multi Map were relatively useless. Yet, there was something else special about the journey last night. I drove through Rayners Lane and just as I passed their road, I switched the radio over to Heart and the heavy bass of an introduction filled the car. I could do nothing to stop myself tapping away at the steering singing along and thinking of you. Thousands of miles away, on the other side of the world. The answer to the question from me, is a definitive yes. So, if only you could find it in your heart to tell me, "Can You Feel It?".

I drove on and after taking a slight detour north towards Pinner, I tracked down the right street. Parking the car, I called to let Mighty Mouse know that I had finally arrived, and we headed to off to St. George's Shopping Centre. I knew little about this movie, apart from the fact that it started British actor, Clive Owen. I had seen a poster, while waiting in queue to watch Star Wars a few weeks ago, and many people had approached the poster and turned to their friend, partner, girlfriend or wife and said this ia great movie, we have to go and watch. Let me just clarify my cinema going activities. Generally I only go to watch the big blockbusters at the cinema, but then again, in 2003, I went to the cinema only 3 times, so my choice of movie can be quite selective. I was looking forward to watching this comic book adaptation because it was so different. Yet, would I be impressed with the graphic violence and mindless acts of crime?

When a comic book comes to the silver screen, the director and writer face a great dilemma. What do they do? Stay true to the comic and risk alienating the wider movie going audience? Or cause controversy by altering the story for a more film friendly finish? This is a difficult balancing act. Some studios only think about bums on seats and therefore revenue generated from a picture and nothing else. This is a narrow minded approached. A movie such as this can appeal to a cross section of people. For example there will be those people that have read and loved the comics in the 1980s and waited a lifetime for this transition. There will be those comic book action hero fans, such as myself, who do not necessary read the comics but love the adventures of the superheros. Then there will be those going to watch the movie based entirely on the actors taking the real life persona of an still drawn image. As you can see, appealing to these groups (there are others but not as significant) can be struggle. The comic book fans, will come and see the movie regardless, no poor review on Rotten Tomatoes will put them off. Having now seen the movie, I can say that this is the closest thing you will ever see to a comic book coming to life on the screen. The action, story telling and pace all closely relate to how a comic book is written. I especially liked the use of colour, with the movie shot in black and white with the odd touch of bright colours (red, yellow, blue) to highlight blood, eyes and lipstick. Perfect. The casting was inspired and I feel Bruce Wills and Michael Rourke performed well in their stories, even if perhaps there was not the time available for character development. The surprise for me was, Jessica Alba. The spoilt brat from The Secret World of Alex Mack (which I confess, I did watch!) has all grown up! ;). There are three stories to tell and rather than go about intertwine them, the approach is to tell the stories seperately, but link in several of the characters that feature. This subtle hint, reminds you that you are watching one film, rather than three seperate movies. The beginning and ending are perfect at the overall finish article is a mirrored piece in terms of content. What also makes this movie different from others in the same genre, is that the villians are as human as the heroes (or anti-heroes if you prefer) and there are no special suits, jackets or weaponery. Everything is quite down to earth in this regard. Therefore, that is why the location, the setting is so important. It is only here, that mindless acts of violence are tollerated, because the police can be bought and corruption is rife. Perhaps Millier was just looking ahead to the future and trying to put together a comic book that reflected the road that society was heading down. Who knows?

My sister went to see the movie in a late afternoon screening in Reading and did not like it. She was evening going to warn me to not go and watch it. I think she felt it was more of a 'bloke' movie than anything else. Sure the violence, is graphic and at times insane. But with the source material, you have a licence, to let revenge take any form you wish and if that means cutting down the police force with an axe, then so be it. There are also some extremely comic moments, particularly in the Marv storyline, which remind you that this is not a true reflection on real life. There are already two sequels planned over the next few years, which sounds great. I just hope they have further intriguing stories to tell. Went I got home at 1am, I rushed onto the computer and read all the trivia associated with the movie, having avoided the page earlier in the day. You can see clearly what a difference it makes to have a fan of the comics directing the movie.

Thursday 2nd June 2005

While like everyone I have good days and bad days, I feel I tend to not bask in the sunshine of those days when life treats me well. I tend to remember and hold closer those dark grey days, when the sun never appears from behind those rain clouds. For once and a break from regularly programming, I am going to tell the world how great life is and how wonderful this week is going. Perhaps my expectations were just too low and the thought of being all alone sent me into a fright. While I can have sympathy for taking this stance, based purely on my past experience. However, things have changed. That was my second full week in the job, this time around I had nearly six months experience and dare I say, expertise under my belt. This gives you the ability to deal with 47 ongoing things while simultaneously answering phones non stop in the afternoon. Let me stop there. This entry will not be consumed by the unpleasantness of work. Instead let me focus my attention on something completely different. Taking a step back from the one topic that has been on my mind the most, in recent months, I slowly come to realise that, regardless of what happens, the future is unwritten and I have no idea of what tomorrow may bring. As long as I face the challenges that are thrown at me with righteous ambitious dedication, with my heart full of hope, there is nothing, nothing that can stand in the way of what I want.

While most of the time I am trying desperately to find wholes in my life, to see where I feel completely unfulfilled. Sure, my life can be on first glance quite empty. Bland is the word I would use with a major lack of life experience, few aspirations. I would agree and perhaps I have no idea of where I want life to take me. That does not mean I am a fussy person unable to make decisive decisions. Perhaps I am scared of making long lasting choices that will change my life forever. Some people would call it putting things off, or running away. A colleague, only last week, left his job to travel around the world. While I am keen to travel and see the rest of this planet, I do not I could take that approach. Work for months, save all your money, to then leave and travel around the world for anything between 9 and 12 months, only to return home eventually and have to start work again. Sure, that is not to say things will always work out that way, who knows whom you may meet on that long and windy road. This is perhaps something I would talk about for years and then never get around to doing. How can some people hide from real life? More money than sense? Or they have a dream and they pursue it? I have no answers for this, but can only wish these people good luck on their voyage of discovery. For me, there is no such voyage of discovery, just a journey of and not to success.

Days are going past and I feel the moment I get home I am in some strange dream. I have started watching Hollyoaks, twice daily instead of just the once. The following nights episode is screened at 7pm on E4. Therefore, when you watch the same episode again, with the rest of the non satellite, cable or Free View(ing) public, you get a strange strong dosage of de ja vu. While my main reason or should that be excuse for part taking in this over indulgence of the Channel 4 soap, is to cover my what if scenario 2271 class B. If I am stuck in traffic and miss the episode on Channel 4 at 6pm. Sure, I know what you are saying, there is always the Sunday morning omnibus part of T4. Firstly that is far to much walk to wall television for any true physically fit and able human being to consume. I personally have better things to do on a Sunday morning, such a sleep or watch wall to wall music videos (you know the drill boys and girls, 440, 441...)

Am I happy? Yes, for the first time in several months I feel not the burden of some major doubt or worry. The promise that the next few months hold, brings together a number of acquisitions I have waited years to achieve. Sure, I may not exactly be living the bachelor playboy lifestyle that many FHM readers dream about, but it is a step in the right direction. For all those times I have doubted myself, those countless times I have had to vent my anger or despair on these pages, I wanted to change the tone. Change the strategy. Things are far from amazing and perfect, but they are far, far from bleak.

In a brief discussion with my friend, Sippy via MSN Messenger yesterday, the subject of human emotions, ever changing came in as topic. In the week, that is to change the life of my University, ex course and ex housemate, I can only thank myself that I am not in for such a rollercoaster ride. I think I could handle some ups and downs over a weekend, but not for endless nights. I then mentioned how I felt. Sure feelings change, as they always will over time. Perhaps I am beginning to learn that whether she might or might not, it is more a question of just getting on with my life.

Monday 30th May 2005

Eleven am is late in my book. Waking up anytime after 10am is considered lazy. My excuse? If I have to confess, it is the fact there was little on my agenda. I would have wasted away those hours watching music television and idle chat online. So to safe myself from this, I spent those extra few hours in bed. So inspired, I racked my brain to find something to do. My breakfast consist of a cup of tea and two chocolate cookies. Then I headed off to clean the car. It was badly over due. When I got home, it was nearly 2pm and I was still looking for something to do. Noting that Superman III was to be screened on BBC One, I wondered if I had would have the time to relive one of the more comical comic book movie adoptions from my childhood. My mind filled with all those classic scenes. With few people online, my family out for the afternoon, I decided to get comfortable in my new leather chair and watch the movie in full. My PC was on for a while, during the opening credits, while I read up all the trivia on IMDB. That is one site, you could spend a lifetime browsing and still not get enough. Reeve was about to return for his third and penultimate crusade in the cape and I had to watch, so the PC went off.

Which is your favourite Superman movie? The purists among you will select II, just as Star Wars fans will always select Empire Strikes Back. While I tend to agree (on both accounts) there is something that has to be said for this third installment. Sure, they did go for a comic feel but there are darker components than both the first movies combined. (After all it was going to be called Superman versus Superman.) But there are lighter touches, as when Clark attempts to get his groove on at the high school reunion. Richard Pryor steals the show, playing the computer genius but always coming across as the comic hero, with his excellent one liners and facial expressions. The script was so well written, that as Gus he was able to transform into a general and and traveling water salesman.

Ironically Superman II was on Sky Movies 1 starting midway through this screening. For Christmas I bought the double disc set for myself. I know it is sad, but I used the vouchers I received for leaving my first post uni job. One day, when I had nothing to do but wait for 2005 to come around, I popped the DVD into the player and watched the movie. Unfortunately, something stopped me watching it in, full so I watched the remainder a few days later. My favourite part is at the end when Clark Kent returns to revenge Rocky. (Would a superhero, really take revenge?) My favourite moment, is after smashing the wannabe tough guy into the pin ball machine, he turns over to the cafe owner and says, "I've been working out!". Magic. It is those moments that make movie going such a great experience. (Plus Kent trying to get his groove on at his reunion ball!) I could watch that moment again and again. Incidentally I did, on Sky Movies, while I was busy polishing my shoes.

The long weekend was drawing to a close. I did something I had not done for several months. It is used so little that I have come to forget that we have a family computer. Some housekeeping was well over due, e-mails to download and the updating of AVG. With a few hours to waste away before my favourite soap came on, I decided to watch the premiere of Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed , on Sky Movies 2. Some good clean fun to fill in a void. What was wrong in that? No one could complain with that. I had not seen the original but I would rather not go down that road. There are several dozen movies I should have seen that I have not seen. I will get around to it, some time.

As I got into the movie, I noticed the first song, which played briefly when Seth Green's character laid his eyes on Velma, played elegantly by Linda Cardellini. It sounded beautiful but I did not get the chance to note the name or any of the lyrics. I made it my mission to hunt down this track and listen to it in full. Thinking it was going to be an easy task of looking down the track listing of the official soundtrack over at Amazon. Unfortunately it was not to be, so it meant returning back to the Internet Movie Database and scrolling through several pages of the message boards. Finally, four pages into my search, I found exactly what I was looking for. Although screening each post for the word 'song' proved a difficult task. Eventually, the title, 'The Way' by Clay Aiken. What a beautiful moving song. I was speaking to Pooja on Skype and sent her the song to listen to. She agreed with me. Just when I was lacking the energy, the drive to move ahead, I longed inspiration, I've found the song.

There's something bout how you stay on my mind,
There's something bout the way that I whisper your name when I'm asleep
Oh girl no. Maybe its the look you get in your eyes.
Oh baby its the way that makes me feel to see you smile.
And the reasons they may change but what i'm feeling stays the same.

Saturday 28th May 2005

Sure, I admit it. I can be downright annoying if I want to. I would personally call it being, persistent. Those under this pressure from me would disagree. Yet, there is always a good reason that I am going to such lengths because I truly care. A case in point, is my dear friend Nav, whom I talk to online on an almost daily basis. He has a blog, but in recent months it has been somewhat neglected. I have been at him, constantly to get back on that horse and get back to writing his online journal. All these requests have fallen on deaf ears, but understandably so. My friend has much more higher priorities than sharing with the world what is on his mind and going on in his life. The unlikely motion to get him back where he belongs, in the blogsosphere, was not even another human being. It was that stupid, annoying frog. Don't believe me? Just read here, and then read again to confirm it for sure. Great to see you back Nav. Hope this short hiatus has done you the world of good and you will be back, bigger better and stronger to continue to dispel us with your words and stories of wisdom.

Finally, on Thursday my new executive leather chair arrived. It was well worth the wait, even the three hour traffic jam. Much more comfortable, to support my back on those long nights spent on the computer. The fact I can do silly childish things like spin around my room, make it the perfect piece of furniture to compliment my room. Sure, it deserves to be shown to you all, but I thought long and hard on how to capture this moment in pixels. A photograph of me, sitting on the chair, working on the computer would have done little for the imagination. So instead, I took the hidden acting talents of my ten month old cousin (or is that first cousin) Ramzi, to literally stand in (or is that sit in?) for me. I think you will agree that he does pull off the job remarkably well. Just got to wait for him to start talking and then we can discuss the finer points of peer to peer software downloads.

International friendlies, most people I know do not see the point in them. Nothing is at stake. I disagree, the friendly gives the manager a chase to try something new, knowing that if it does not work, it does not matter. Long enjoyed international friendlies, particularly against non-European sides that we do not play on a regular basis. This evening was a case in point, with the first match of the tour of America. I have a great deal of respect for the US soccer team. Particularly after they were not even mentioned by the BBC before they smashed Portugal 3-2 in the World Cup, three years ago. They have been improving ever since, it is just shame the country has a whole still does not give the sport the much needed attention it deserves. Perhaps the arrival of the England team would begin to change the tide in that thinking. Even though it was a understrength side being selected, I looked forward to some entertaining football. Overall it was from a neutral perspective but at times England did not show the quality of a time pushing to win the biggest cup of all, next summer. Thankfully, the Americans still lack that cutting edge in finishing, which will come with experience. Otherwise, it could have been yet another one of those, shock defeats.

Away from the football, there is something I strongly admire or am even envious about when it comes to the Americans. Their national anthem. While it is perhaps the greatest and most recognised national anthem in the world, it is the sense of patriotic pride it distills in all those that are lucky enough to represent their country, that is most striking. When God Save The Queen, was played in the Soldier Field stadium, none of the England players, that I noted, even attempted to mine the national anthem. Then we had the home team, and it was a complete contrast. Each member of the team, the full eleven on the field and subsitutes, turned to face their left and look up, proudly at the flag, holding their right hand against their lapel and singing with firm voice, the 'Star Spangled Banner'.

This was a thought that had got me scrabbling for the anthem online. I already have the Whitney Houston version of the song, which is perhaps some of the better quality versions. A quick search on Google bought me to the most famous instrumental version by the rock legend, Jimi Hendrix. Yet, the one which I find is the best, in my humble opinion is not from the distant past of 1969. Instead it is by the 2002 American Idol winner, Kelly Clarkson. What set this apart from the other version was the fact it was pure vocal, no instruments, no big band, no big chorus. Just Kelly singing the song with the great passion she has for music. Amazing.

Under normal circumstances, what is said online is private. On this occassion, I am willing to sacrifice the privacy for the solemn words of my friend, Nav. Yes, please do not judge him purely his blog. "So our national anthem, God Save The Queen focusses on a time when they would feel special by having a great leader like the Queen to lead them so pray god to keep her safe and lead them into glory". Great sentiment, shame it does not make a great song.

Thursday 26th May 2005

Sorry, but another adventure in that day of the week, we would all rather forget. My colleague had asked me to swap shifts and come in early this morning. I duly agreed, taking into account it was his girlfriend's birthday, so it would have been rude not to come to his aid. This was the first early shift I would have carried out since sometime in early March. I had to adjust to getting up early, particularly after a night like that. It had to be done and I knew the comfort zone of an early return from the office was an uneasy illusion. Little did I know what lay ahead.

By the time I got up and was getting ready, there was an unwary silence around the house. Not since my time commuting into the City had it been so quiet. Nobody to greet you in the morning was strange, but I had little time to contemplate this lonely feeling at 6.30am, I had to head to work. The roads were busier than I expected, but leaving early I had a buffer zone, incase the unthinkable did happen down the bypass. Pulling into the office car park, I had for the first time, a full quota of choice of where to park my car. The other offices were dead and it was the first time I had been in the office with so little people around, so little 'business' taking place. Thankfully, the work day was quite calm and steady. No major disasters or headaches to deal with, which should have been a sign.

I do not know about yourself, but I only fill up my car with petrol (or gasoline) when the warning light comes on. I am not the person to put in odds and ends of Ł5 or Ł10 and never have been. The tank is filled to the brim with around Ł40 worth of unleaded and that not filled again for usually two weeks as my journey to work is so short. The reason for me telling you this is because my petrol gauge was in the red zone and the that orange led was to come on any time soon. I had half expected for it to be come on, on my journey into work but it did not. On the way home, I would need to stop at the local BP petrol station and refuel. No problem, I finished at 4.30pm and could easily get some fuel before 6pm, even if there was a little rush hour traffic, which I expected. As the afternoon passed by my thoughts turned to Friday and the upcoming Bank Holiday Weekend. This short lapse in concentration was to prove very costly.

Should have come off at the first available exit and not driven further up into the heavy traffic. The signs were there, but I was so reassured by the fact that this was just down to the time of day, rather than any spectacular.

When after ten minutes I had made no progress, the penny finally dropped something serious had happened at Handy Cross to cause this build up of traffic. I text my work colleague to let him know that this was a no go area and to take an alternative route, then a few minutes later I did the same for my sister, although and alternative route was not readily available. This was going to be long haul, but my reversal to switch on the radio for further information, shows my usual stubbornness to such events. The traffic announcements would do little to help me now. I got out my CD case and try to find audio to occupy me for however long it was going to take me to get home. The only worry I had was running of fuel. The mileage left to my house was three miles, yes a measly three miles. Thoughts crossed my mind of abandoning the vehicle, if I did run out of fuel and walking home.

An hour into my journey home, which usually takes no more than twenty minutes, I had progressed a single mile, with fuel running dangerously low. My lane, the outside lane had been making less progress than the other on the dual carriageway, due to an drop out clause. Some drivers were braving the small gap in between the crash barrier, with half a dozen cars, squeezing in between and taking their live in their hands to turn around and head in the opposite direction, trying best to avoid the high speed, oncoming traffic. A businessman had left his brand new blue Audi A4 and walked across to survey the game, giving a knowing look to the driver of the Ford Maverick up ahead, who had stopped to let him take this, leap of faith. He considered the option, but declined and I agreed with him.

What was this really going to achieve? If this accident was has severe as it appeared then all local roads would be busy. The ambulance and police motorcycle that had steered through past us. After the disaster last week, (see blog posting from Friday 20th May) I kept my faith in staying inline and riding this out. Hoping I would be home shortly, now that the emergency services were on the scene. How wrong was I to be. By the time it clocked over to 6.30pm, I realised that it would have been better for me to take up my Manager's offer and work until 6pm as I usually do. Crazy. Only in England can you leave work earlier than normal only to get home later than you would if you had been working the late shift. Pulling up to the Handy Cross roundabout, I noticed the heavy police presence, controlling the flow of traffic and just keeping everything moving. As I drove across the M40 that the true scale of the problem came to light. The traffic was at a complete standstill with many drivers leaving their cars to find out what the delay was about. Weary of all the traffic police around, I sneaked a quick final image with my camera phone.

Pulling up onto my drive, the warning light came on. It was 6.51pm, I left work two hours and twenty odd minutes ago and was traveled in total seven miles. There was no way I was going to go out and top up the tank tonight, with local roads still busy. Note to self, think carefully before offering to do another early shift. Secondary note to self, come up with a practical route home that avoids the by-pass. Looks like I am not the only one considering some major overhaul of the whole junction. Not a minute to soon, just hope they get it right this time around. Will keep you posted on any news on this proposal. Roll on Spring 2006! ;)

Monday 23rd May 2005

The morning after the night before, is the standard phrase, but it actually refers more to the day than the night. I awoke, hoping everything had been a silly dream and that things were actually different. Almost instantly I came to the realisation that it was Monday morning, the real world was waiting for me and I had to get out of my stupid daze. Deep inside I felt empty, hoping the weather would cheer me up. I pulled open my blind, to be presented with this beautiful, tranquil scene.

Bright blue acres of sky, with not a sign of cloud or dark dull shadow. The song I wanted to hear at this moment, was Brand New Day by Sting. For a change, the weather did not reflect my mood, and was almost the complete opposite. I got out of bed and got ready for work, trying my best to concentrate on the busy day and week the lay ahead. My journey to work is short, uneventful and at times tedious. This morning it gave me the opportunity to clear my head. I also listen to local radio station before switching to my own, home brew of CDs. Mix 107 are same as any of the other run of the mill radio station. Local meaningless prizes in competitions, banter which always swings close to the taste boundary and constant discussion about what the presenters did last night. However, on one part, the most crucial part they are always focused. The music. Almost as if, they know exactly how I feel and the songs that would best suit my current situation. This morning was once again, a case in point. Wet Wet Wet with Goodnight Girl, closely followed by the contemporary, Maroon 5 and She Will Be Loved. I felt touched by the choice of songs, so unique, so perfect. In a moment of spontaneity, I placed a random unmarked CD into the CD player. A few songs cheered me up and I felt myself coming back to normal (if there could ever be such a thing. I came into work refreshed, but feel down into reality with a bump.

Work was strangely busy, but it did little to occupy my mind. I tried my best to concentrate and perform to the best of my abilities but I feel that I was not up to my usual high standard. With other things occupying my mind, I felt a cold coming on. The last thing I needed, after several months, if not a whole year of sound good health. Things were looking bleak to say the least.

Making it to the end of the day, I got into the car and could not leave quick enough through the gates. That CD was still in the player, as I scanned the tracks and let it click onto Holiday by Madonna. How fitting, as the bubble gum pop vocals started the rain drizzled down, on the dull grey day coming to a close. Complete contrast to this morning. The upbeat music kept me going as I came up to the main junction roundabout, the final bottleneck before I get home. Looking due south west, over the M40, I saw a rainbow, as the rain finally began to clear. Was it a sign? Who knows? All I knew was I did not want a weekend like this for a long long time. How do I feel right now? Hope, there is always hope.

Sunday 22nd May 2005

So the day came, and thankfully I had many other things to occupy my mind before the afternoon. The morning was rushed, While I was busy cleaning my car, concentrating on the things I thought are important to make an impression. I received a text, the time had changed to 6pm, but the venue remained the same. I should not have really had had an issue with this, because logistically speaking it was a goldmine. I think the idea just did not work for me. It was in hindsight, an act of God. Giving me extra time to prepare and work on the crucial aspect of what I would truly be judged, not the image, but the substance.

Leaving just after 5pm, I wanted time to pass, so that my departure time was not too soon, showing my keenness for the task ahead, but instead well timed to arrived just before the others (as so often has been the case). The motorway journey was relatively clear and I made good progress. My choice of music was predictable, by thinking about it now, Leave A Light On by Berlinda Carlisle would have been much more appropriate. That is another story, let me return to the A40, on this Sunday evening. As I pulled off the A-road, the traffic had increased, with a few drivers, venturing out for the first time in the week, and driving at the over caution 50 miles an hour. Coming up the slip road, I noted a group of girls in a Renault Clio behind me. They were around late teens, singing along to the songs on the radio. I looked back and caught the eye of the driver, in my rear view mirror and just smiled. That helped, someone to easy my nerves. I kept an eye on them, purely to try to discover what they were singing along to. It was too late, the lights turned green and I drove up across onto the roundabout. I was at my destination. Yesterday, I had even considered taking the major detour of going across the roundabout and coming back up the other slip road to avoid all the congestion which always seems to over come this spot. Never mind, it was not as if I had far to travel. Taking a u turn across the roundabout and heading back north onto the slip road back to the A40. Turning off just before the Total petrol station, I drove across and parked up. Switching off the engine, then the stereo, I took a deep breath. This was it.

Getting back into my car, I felt strange. Feelings that I have not felt for a long time, if ever before for that matter. How can I summarise this into words for this blog? Misguided and empty. Your mind saying one thing, being the voice of reason as it always should be and your heart saying something completely different, even though you know what you long for is far far out of reach. My concentration faded and I just wanted to go and sleep. Have you ever had a moment, a moment that you had waited for but came about unexpectedly and you didn't know how to deal with it? You said what you did because you felt it had to be said. Not because you felt there was a need to cover old ground but purely to underline, re-iterate your rock solid position. From my experience, there are those people who've already made up their minds, the remainder

Pulling into Wycombe, after filling my car with diesel, I really wondered what my next steps would be. Looking at the night sky dimming, I felt as lonely as the moon in the purple sky. Slowly it came to surface that I had a job to do. Something to occupy my time, that would take attention away from the topic at hand and instead focus all my efforts on the project in hand. Did I need any greater motivation?

As I came home there were the signs of Sunday evening, all around. My Dad asleep on the sofa, my Mum busy cleaning in the kitchen and getting clothes ready for the working week. My sisters were upstairs, one in her room, the other in the bathroom. I came into my room and sank onto my bed. Looking around, I grabbed my mobile. Nav had replied to my text, he was online, waiting to speak to me. I felt a warmth surround me and switched on my PC. Rarely would I be on so late on a Sunday evening, but there were other more pressing tasks to undertake than sleep. Particularly when the future of one man, still to this day hangs in the balance. A time for deeds, not words.

You only truly appreciate your friends when you are on the ropes. Severely battered and bruise, but never out for the count, it is your friends, your true friends that come to your aid, to heal these wounds. So this blog entry is dedicated firstly to all my friends that were online tonight, Nav, Sippy and Emma. Sure, the topic of conversation must be getting quite strained recently and I would not be surprised if I was blocked by many people for that reason alone. Yet, when I needed them most they were there and listened to what I had to say, did not pass judgment and just left those small ounces of advice that you need to see you through and never close the door at that point. They stay to let you realise the deeper side to friendship, beyond trust, mutual respect and companionship. Knowing when to comment and when to stay silent.

The perfect moment to introduce a new but nevertheless supportive friend, Pooja. You may have noticed her leaving comments on my blog recently. She is a high school student from across the water, and we got in touch, when I stumbled upon her blog. While it may lack quantity, it makes up in detail. I think I can truly say that I have found a dedicated, the most dedicated fan of my blog. To the extent, where she obtains the songs I have been mentioning and enjoys them for herself and her own personal moment. Don't believe me? There is some truth, somewhere. She describes it as an area to vent out her frustration and steam about her world. I tend to agree with her, that music is the one thing that can get you through. Walking away. Never knew my blog affecting someone read my blog in that way. Just proves that writing this online journal sometimes, just sometimes bears some meaning to the life of another person, thousands of miles away, leading a completely different life. Something tells me they will have to be releasing songs at a desperate rate, to catch up with the roller coaster emotional ride I have had this weekend. If you include the final Star Wars movie, I've experienced every human emotion known to man. What do I need? I need a long Bank Holiday weekend to recover from all this. Shame there is little time, I have plenty work to be getting on with. Oh, the strains of modern life.

Saturday 21st May 2005

The day of the cup final is always special, even if today felt different. I got up slightly later than normal and had some toast and tea for breakfast. Cruising the music television channels, I find myself tuning into VH1. They were doing a run down of the 500 Greatest British Songs this weekend. The opening to the song at 315, means everything to me. It perhaps was not as fitting how as it was nearly five years ago but the meaning was all the same. What sort of person are you? Do you walk away from your problems, avoiding them for as long as possible or do you take them, head on? Well, just like Craig David, there are times when I feel like just 'Walking Away'. Perhaps not today but there are times when I have taken some courage that I am not the only one. Ironically, 315 was the number of the night bus I used to catch from Wycombe town centre to Cressex every weekday. Thankfully, that part of my life is over, forever.

Back to the most important aspect of the day, the big match. It had been built up for weeks and now that it was finally here, I felt somewhat disappointed. Sure, avoiding the newspapers and keeping what I read on the web to a bear minimum. Nevertheless, there was a feeling of unfinished business, as I sat down at 1pm to watch the show, live on BBC1. I had seen Arsenal crumble to Manchester United, twice already this season in the league, and even in the worthless cup, but the fact we played a C side that does not count. Revenge is such a strong word. Taking what was rightfully ours, is how I would prefer to label the tact. We have a long traditional in this cup competition and I felt, even without Henry, we had what it would take to win this game, perhaps only with a single goal, an act of genius. As it transpired, our most crucial player was our goalkeeper, able to settle some ghosts. My personal analysis? We did not perform in the first half and looked like a team, willing only to attack on the counter. We were much too patient, waiting for things to happen. Man U, were able to capitalize on this by piling on the pressure, consistently but never able to create a real opening. Not sure what was said at half time, but it woke us from our slumber and we started putting passes together and show some attacking might. This was in between dogmatic pressure, which thanks to our keeper, we were able to hold on for extra time. Overall, the better team, deserved to win in open play, but just were not clinical in their finishing. We were lucky. The limit of this was when dear Freddie cleared a goal bound shot by Ruud on the line. That was the closest clear cut chance and you could see, over time that today would not be for Alex. With the prospect of penalties I had a sinking feeling. Reyes had been sent off and some of our more experienced attackers had been substituted. I took some comfort from our performance against Sheffield United, which also went to spot kicks but a result in our favour. Throughout the past week at work, I was confident that Arsenal would come up with the goods and the match had seen Lenhman hit another level. Could he pull it off? As it transpired, he could but I was on the edge of my seat all the way through. Sometimes, the good guys win, no matter what obstacle the bad guys put in the way. Expect a full review from a drunkard Spanish resident, tomorrow morning. Thankfully, we have one more season to watch the Dutch Master grace our screens.

If the weather tells a story of the day, then it is so. The day began with slight drizzles and then by midday it was raining heavily, with major downpour around 1pm. This affected the broadcast of digital satellite, which was annoying to say the least. Then, during the match, the weather cleared somewhat. With extra time looming the sun finally shown over in Cardiff, while here in Wycombe it was still quite overcast. Then, within moments of Arsenal clinching that final penalty and the trophy, the sun came out to shine brightly for me and not just on TV, I came into my room to pick up my mobile, I had a text message and my weekend was about to be turned upside down, but for a change, for the better. So just like the weather, my emotion has quickly shifted, like a roller coaster from despondent emptiness, to meaningful delight. Have faith in the promise of what tomorrow may bring.

Friday 20th May 2005

Thursdays, what is your view on them? Can you have a view on the day of the week? Perhaps not, because one Thursday, will never be like another. They stick in my mind for being crucial linkage between the middle and end of the week. The strongest example of this, is from my placement. I always remember driving home on a Thursday evening, it was late, cold October. Chris Moyles was blaring out, as he often did in the period in my life, on Radio One. While stuck in traffic for my sixty mile drive home I would think, thoughfully ponder, that the week was almost out. What had I achieved? Nothing. I was just looking forward to the moment, when this period of my life would be over.

This brings us right back, to yesterday. A staff meeting organised at short notice, but with a great buzz of excitement, particularly from the finance department. Yet, I knew there was little there for me. My attendence, perhaps not complusory, but I thought it best to go along and find out the official news surrounding this open secret. I came to fully appreciate what I discovered. The other side of the business, which puts so much into perspective, the pieces of the jigsaw falling into place. Everyday I get dragged into the negative, the limitations of the product, or even the service. Yet there are a whole group of people travelling the world (literally) to sell this product and others (still in development) based on the industry perception that we are market leaders for a this solution. While there is no doubt that new clients will drive this company and make them grow, there was a steady glare of anticipation, as the MD, cleary demonstrated on the white board, an example breakdown of revenue generation between two of products. There is some truth to say, that there is more to a sale than the initial revenue it creates. So, why, have I come to share, this sensitive information with you? Well, in bigger corporations, you get lost in your day to day task. Rarely having the opportunity to see the wider, bigger picture. I have finally found myself somewhere else. Here, I won't get lost as a number in the system. You can wager, that I will do my utmost to ensure, that never happens.

While most people would have enjoyed an hour away from the help desk on a Thursday afternoon, I was conscious of the fact that there would numerous voicemails, when I got back to my desk. To my surprise, there were none, and it was 6pm. Home time. I headed off home in my car, expecting to be home by 6.20pm, as normal. Little did I know the journey that lay before me. Sure, this is nothing compared to mission impossible in January 2003. Exactly, how long could a seven mile journey really take? The answer to that, you will find, shortly. The by pass was busy, with traffic built up almost to the roundabout I join it at. This was the first time I had seen vehicles backed up so far down the dual carriage way. It was decision time. The stubborn resolute part of me wanted to fight this one out. How bad could the traffic really be? The fact it was not moving, should have really been a clear indication that I would be sitting here for some time. So I made the move, only to regret it later. I came off the A road. I rarely take photos with my trusty, Nokia 6230 prefering to use a dedicated device. However, when I am out and about it is useful to capture the moment. So here we are the first image recorded from my camera phone, uploaded to my blog.

So, as you can clearly see I took the first available slip road. Most of the vehicles were heading west, but I was going to go east and use of familiar short cuts. This was to be in time my downfall. As I headed towards Bourne End, in detail I mapped the journey ahead. It was not going to be pretty, particularly for the car, but it was going to get me home as quickly as possible. Taking the country road into Flackwell Heath, I became aggrogrant with my good fortune and took one last fatal throw of the dice. I decided to take the single track country lane, which cuts underneath the by-pass and come back to the main motorway junction from Marlow. Nobody else would dare to follow my example to take this route, off the beaten track? I was wrong, not only were their cars ahead of me, there were cars following me, so the journey plan was destoryed. A driver of a Ford Galaxy, perhaps for the first time venturing into the green and pleasant land of the country, was completely unable to cope with the demands of driving in the country. To begin with, I felt we were making great progress, but as I headed around the corner, I saw in the distant this dark blue people carrier stop and engage the reverse gear and back we came. Then, vehicle and after vehicle past and I felt somewhat dismayed that I would not be getting home any time soon. Stop start, reverse. This was the tale of what was to be the final leg of my journey. I was wrong, for more obsticles lay in my path. This so called, 'shortcut' should have shaved around 20 minutes off my journey, but instead added some thirty minutes. No matter, as I zoomed under the bypass, I came up to the main road. A right turn and I was home free. No, I looked ahead and saw a line of traffic, almost a mile long. This called for furhter evasive moves, so I turned left heading back into Marlow (the whole earlier part of this journey wasted) not knowing if there were further delays ahead. I had to take that chance, while in my head mapping the next rearranged route. This was going to get me home, but it was the most inconceivable way of doing so. Eventually I got home, at 7pm, an hour after I had left the office, which is 7 miles away and clocked up around 20 miles in doing so and burnt more fuel than I would like to imagine. The morale of the story is, always have a plan B.

Today there was finally some light for a week when I have been in the dark. After several weeks of radio silence, I finally got in touch with the one, yesterday afternoon. While this was surprising, as I had expected at least another week before they would get in touch. Though I should not be so ungrateful and be thankfully that they were able to appear on MSN. The fact I was at work, did not get in the way of brief conversation. Finally, was this the moment I had been waiting for? To be honest, I do not know, but if I am still in the dark, how do you think the other party is at this moment in time. As the saying goes, the night is young and there is plenty of petrol left in the tank yet.

It has just clicked over to 1.15am, as I write this. I left the cinema only twenty minutes ago, so this review is ice cold fresh. A word of caution, due to the late hour, I may not be quite on the same form, as would normally be expected. Let me start, as all stories should at the beginning. I left home at 9.45pm, to give myself plenty of time before I got to the cinema and the screening, I knew potentially this screening would be busy, with people in Wycombe having little else to do on a Friday right. (I was proved right, as I will comment later). I wanted some time to think, some time to prepare, so I walked slowly, with no urgency in my stride. A journey that usually takes five minutes by foot, took fifteen, as I noted as I walked into the cinema. It was just before 10pm. Quiet, dangerously quiet, with just a handful of people queuing for tickets, all screens with tickets available. I queued for some refreshments, even though, in reality I did not want any. I was served by an skinny Eastern European, whose grasp of English was limited to say the least. I ordered as little as possible, but he suddenly wanted to super size me and apparently save me money? I was just no in the mood to be rattled and argued, no, this is what I want, please give it to me! He muttered to himself, that all he was trying to do was save me money? I couldn't quite understand that having more popcorn and beverage that I was able to consume and therefore waste was actually saving me money? A bitter feeling overcame me as I paid, hoping that this was the low light of the evening that things would only get better. I walked across to screen 2, to the left of the complex and was told that I would have to wait at least ten minutes while the screen was cleaned. While I had no issue with this, I became self conscious standing in queue, on my own. While most parties were either couples or groups of friends and family. I thought back to the fact that I had been here before, able to record in vivid detail our last nine months as students. While by the end of November, I had achieved and excelled at this process, adding photographs and capturing special moments in my gallery, my friend did not have any web presence to speak off. A holding page had gone and even the Uni server hosted site had been removed. Would we ever see him back blogging?

In the meanwhile, the blogging community had grown, to the point that last year, blog became the word of the year. The statistics are mind boggling, with a new weblog created every six six seconds. While the rest of the world, and even Microsoft caught the blogging bug, Sibtain was still no where to be found. As our time at University came to an end, I had new optimism that he would finally get around to working on the site, that had be overdue since October 2003, it was June 2004, and yet another long hot summer lay ahead of us. Would he finally make the breakthrough? He didn't and I don't think I helped things? I would text him at the unearthly hour of 5am, before I headed to work, with the single word, "BLOG" and constantly pester him, whenever he dared to show his face online via MSN. Then, just before Christmas, I got in touch with Sippy and he was working like a dog on the site, day and night. I did not believe it to begin with, and thought that nothing would be dusted until the moment I saw the site online. This evening, just before 8pm, finally, after a wait of two years version three was with us, and the rest of cyberspace. Now, when you going to add that next blog entry Sippy?

The weekend comes around and you want to make the most of your spare time. I know I do, particularly as my work life balance has now tipped slightly in favour of life, rather than work. This weekend started like any other, I had a predefined list of objectives (including getting my haircut) and was able to get all this done with no real problems. As I drove into my home town, I looked up to the sky, which was clear blue. Beautiful, I should have been listening to U2, Beautiful Day instead of some manufactured pop band.

I better get back to my movie review, even though it would do little justice to what is an extremely entertaining film. Instead I would like to quickly go over some of the major elements of this film that make it so special and in summary gather together my thoughts on the first three, final three and complete story in totality.

While this movie is highly entertaining, engaging and moving at times, it does well to serve the purpose. To create the bridge to the New Hope. I suppose, after two movies, the third can always feel a let down. Perhaps knowing there are not to be any further adventures leaves a questionable empty feeling in your heart. As you watch the film, it because less a question of why, but more of how. Dedicate fans from around the world have been discussing this motion picture for years, perhaps even decades. There was even talk of episodes, VII, VIII, IX but that was quickly ruled out by LucasFilm themselves. When Phantom Menace came out, I felt a great overwhelming sense of anticipation, fueled by all the marketing spots, games, television and product placement through the summer of 1999. Yet, perhaps then, it was less shameless and tacky, as it as become now. The more cynical among you will declare that this was never the case, and the merchandising was only carried out with some sense of dignity in the mid to late 1970s. I would not know any different. The circumstances then, were so different from today. I went to the cinema with a group of friends in Reading, all of whom were major Star Wars fans. I must admit, bigger fans than myself. (I could never spend hours on multi-player Jedi Knights, particularly on a flaky 33.6kbps modem.) This evening, I went on my own and had nothing my own thoughts for company. Shame, that in six years I've gone from that, to this.

How do you make a movie, when all your loyal band of followers already know what is going to happen? This question got me thinking, during the course of the movie on the vision. George had vision. To create six films, but to in essence, break them into smaller digestible components. How this series ever got made, is a testimony to one man and one man alone. Can you imagine, sitting there at the pitch? "Hi dudes, I'd like to make picture (which I want full merchandising control over, but we can get to that minor issue later) actually make that six pictures. Yet, here is the rub, start in the middle with the fourth story and then perhaps in the future, go back and make the first three movies!". He must have been laughed out of, talked out of, or perhaps worse, of each boardroom he went to. (Perhaps even the more recent Orange Wednesday board too!). I do not know enough about the original trilogy and how it came about to really give you much insight into that world, behind the camera. Those films were for my Dad's generation, which is what they wanted and much more than they expected. Today, the bar is much higher, and we as audiences are much more sophisticated (and less shallow?). While, I feel the original movies will never be surpassed in their unique status within the realm of cinema, they have tended to age less graciously with the introduction of the final trilogy, which is for my generation. The MTV watching, iPod wearing, Google surfing and blog writing young band of new fans. Comparison is so difficult to do, because there is more to this than an age gap of some twenty years. While I envy those people who were able to experience the force, first hand and for the first time on the silver screen, I do not wish to trade my position. I have been lucky enough to grow up at a time, when Star Wars the phenomenon had perhaps faded, but the introduction of new technology, such as the home computer, saw the saga go from the passive cinema to the engaging video game.

While the critics will always find wholes, particularly in the dialogue and acting, I can only summarise by saying the following. Of all his qualities as a movie make, George Lucas is this, a story teller. The most important aspect of this entire six installment extravagant is the tale of a fallen hero redeeming himself. Are we not always seeing the path to the dark side, but redeeming ourselves in the face of internal conflict? Always choosing to take the righteous path, the path to the Force? While people will always go into the deeper and inner meanings of this tale, I have come to the conclusion that it is this. A story, in the most purest form. Of Good conquering evil, even when perhaps humanity (or would that be the whole galaxy?) have lost hope. The acting, dialogue and set pieces are all secondary to this primary goal. If you judge this great man, on this one criteria alone, you will see that he comes out as one of the greatest story tellers of all time. How to judge his success? When you go to the local cinema, you will see the number of empty seats in the cinema. For me, it was seat 14, next to me. Perhaps I should have invited someone after all?

As I left the cinema, into the cool spring night, I looked up at the cloudy night sky. A bright full moon, lit up the road as I headed home. Then, it hit me. That is what it is all about. In this movie, we feel we are always searching for some great power, some Force that is beyond comprehension for mice and men, mere mortals. Yet, as I looked back to the road ahead, I realised this Force, is within all of us. The ability to give love and to receive love and ultimately to make one another happy. There is no major intergalactic battle taking place out there in the depths of space. The minor everyday issues we have are with ourselves. When we doubt ourselves, we make ourselves weaker. This fuels the fire of the many whom would like to see us fall. Instead, we should take note from this story, that whichever path we decide to take, only true affection can determine our destiny.

[2.17am - wow, that took some time to write. I have so much more to add, but I am going to get some rest now. Expect me to update this entry sometime tomorrow, with reference to Thursday and the chosen one.]

Wednesday 18th May 2005

After several years of thinking about it, talking about it and evening dreaming about it, I did it. I summed up the courage to head over to Arsenal.com and join the club. The main prize of course is a season ticket to the new Emirates stadium, but the journey to that Mecca is long and not without struggle. This is all part of the corporate plans of a PLC, to stop too many people coming to watch a football club. So, each stage of the process involves more money being chastised out of your wallet. While football has gone from a working class game into the multi billion dollar business, with a handful of millionaires at the top, I have no grudge to pay for entertainment. I hope and pray that somehow I can get my hands on a season ticket, sooner rather than later.

Regular readers of this blog, will know my detest for Monday morning. Though, there are certain special moments that get me through. This week, it was a little help from my friends, via e-mail, and even MSN Messenger. Simple, how just some words from a friend can change your day. I do not want to give the impression that I spend all day idle gossip, on the IM service. It helps to ease the burden of a busy day on the helpdesk. Particularly when in recent times the daily tussle has become such a standard strain.

Bought some hangers, on eBay on Monday. No, this is not due to my workplace boredom. I felt this was the ideal time to replace all my wire hangers with fresh brand new sturdy wooden hangers for the whole household. I think, eighty should do it. Consequently, last week was my first year anniversary of opening my account. In that time I have done far more purchasing than selling, gaining six feedback stars. Therefore to increase my use of the world famous brand, I have decided upon a new challenge. I will not make any purchases, until I have the clear funds in my PayPal account. Therefore I need to do some major selling before getting around to buying some items that are on my wish list. So, some DVDs and VHS will be heading out of the door. Been looking around but there is little else of value that I could legally sell. If you have any ideas, please get in touch. I would gladly appreciate your suggestions.

After weeks of persuasion from Nav, I finally step over the ledge and downloaded MSN 7. However, I am strictly getting a feel for the software on my work PC before taking the final step of installing on my home PC. I never beta software, particularly for Microsoft, of all software houses. Most of my techie friends have been using it for months, but I never went beyond 6.2. There was little need, because I make great use of MSN Plus! which does everything I need. I had downloaded the executable at work, last week and it had been lying in my Downloads folder for days, until today, when I took that major step. Sure, some of the little touches are cute, but I doubt they will have ever lasting appeal. My full review will come in due course.

Months before this blog started, I went to see Attack Of The Clones, at the then, Warner Village cinema in Leicester. It was my second year at University and I was disappointed with the overall response from my friends to go and see the sci-fi classic. So, one afternoon, I think it was 16th May, I went across to watch the movie on my own. I know this sounds pathetic, but I was not willing to wait around. I had an entire row to myself and although disappointed in my lack of company, I had Yoda and the other Jedi Knights. Just before the main battle scene at the end, I had a thought, which I wish I could have transmitted to my friend, Pav at that very instant. I was thinking to myself, we have never seen the Master in a light sabre battle. Within a second, George answered my call. Amazing. Once again, on Friday night at 10.15pm, I will be heading to the cinema, on my own. On this occasion it will be the local FlimWorks, which although out of favour, is local, expensive but nevertheless, a five minute hassle free walk away. Prepare yourself for the final installment, my final review on the saga, in the early hours of Saturday morning.

Saturday 14th May 2005

Are you superstitious? I was more inclined to believe in such things when I was younger. These days however, I tend to be of the mind, that there are those of us who create our own luck. Friday 13th, has never turned out to be a day of misfortune, so I approach it very much as any other. No one will know how to pronounce it, but there is actually a word to describe the fear of Friday 13th. God help those people suffering from that condition.

Always on the look out for new blogs to read, but perhaps I should pay more attention to the blogs I currently list as favourites. If I am honest, I have not found many blogs that I have read and instantly wanted to bookmark. Some, you read and enjoy a few recent entries, but there is not that magic that compels you to come back for more. Nazma's blog is refreshing to read and sometimes I am guilty of not spending enough time reading past entries. Her writing style is intelligent, entertaining and always dramatic. So much goes on in her life, it difficult to keep up with events. At times it develops into sheer poetry and raises a smile. Well done on the end of your exams. Just the long holiday that lies ahead of you now.p

With the final match day of the Premiership tomorrow, I thought I would look back to August. Seems like years ago, back then my life was so different. Work overshadowed everything, so the weekends became a major solace for me. An escape from reality. I remember sitting down and watching Soccer Saturday on Sky Sports, for the first game of the season. Arsenal played Everton on the following day, which I remember just as if it was last weekend. We had a record to protect and extend and I was glad when we made the perfect start. Thankfully, August is not too far away. In between we have the big speculations, comings and goings plus the major turmoil over at Old Trafford. Should make for an interesting pre-season.

Dr. Who tonight was fantastic. Mainly because they traveled back to the 1980s. Something I have longed to do for several years. Sure, it is a hopeless, meaningless dream. Rose finally began to understand the implications of changing her past, only to make things worse, rather than better. My desire to back to the decade of my birth, is not to save a life or even make any changes. I plan to just live a selfish dream. Relive the artificial highs and take in the sounds and visions first hand, rather than through nostalgic eyes, as I have to at the moment. Back to reality, I have been very impressed with the return of the sci-fi screens to the BBC. They should be congratulated on pulling this out of the bag, particularly as every episode has improved over the weeks. Next week, a return to war town London, looks magnificent. Never before have I seen a television series which have improved in quality, with every passing episode. Bring on next Saturday 7pm.

Thursday 12th May 2005

This may be hard to believe, but sometimes I have no motivation to blog. I surf the web and look out for the latest happenings in the blogosphere. I find personal web sites and blogs, online journals and am struck by how interesting and unique, the author leads. Then, I look back at myself and consider my blog as a whole. Overall, it is not generally that exciting and I am nothing but a monotonous exciting, with very few talking points. Though, unlike some, I vow never to leave the blogging world. The ability to record, document my life is crucial, even if somewhat egotistical. It gives me the power to be able to look back at January 2005, in a way I would not be able to do before. I can recall, my movements, the music I was listening to and more importantly the people I was thinking of (and of course, still am!). I needed inspiration. It came in the form of 90 minutes of mind blowing football. I was taken back, to 6th March 2004. Arsenal were playing Portsmouth in the FA Cup, screened live on BBC1. One of the few football matches I was able to watch, in my final year at University. Ironically, it was also the date of my sister Natalie's birthday, but I had more important things to consider, as I came to sit down on the sofa that evening. I was joined by Paul, not sure where my other house mate Nav was (possibly back home for the weekend). Paul is a casual football fan, but even he was impressed by the free flowing, slick passing of the Gunners and took time away from commercial coding projects to enjoy the game. As an Arsenal fan, it was a performance, that makes you smile with glee. Poetry in motion, as we sealed our place in the semi-finals. The BBC in a master stroke of pure genius decided to play a French song over the credits. The song was by the Beautiful South - Les Yeux Ouverts. Translated means, Open Eyes and the melody is exactly the same as Dream A Little Dream Of Me, as sung by Mama Cass. This was the perfect choice, as you watched some our stars players stroking the ball around the park, toying with the Portsmouth defence. Overall, it was the best performance from Arsenal I had ever seen. Until last night. I had high expectations for the game against Everton, even though there was little riding on it whatsoever. The last Prem Plus pay per view match to be screened this season, and the final pound to be cashed from my Prem Plus season ticket of Ł50. I still think I only watched a handful of games, mainly those featuring Arsenal. Never mind, this is not a moment for Murdoch bashing. As the teams came out onto the Highbury pitch for the last time in their famous red and white, I had a feeling. A feeling that this was going to be a great game. Everton started off well, but suddenly Arsenal came to live, stringing passes together and Dennis Bergkamp, the Dutch Master was at the centre of everything. We were back to our best, and even surpassing our performance from thirteen months ago. Magical to watch, breathtaking passes, one touch football, patient play. My Mum who has little understanding of football, was well impressed. For a change, I think she was happy to for go her three hours of back to back Indian soap operas. At first half, with a controlling lead, I considered what could happen. Usually we go to sleep, and let the opposition play in the second half, which lets them grow in confidence and as in past games this season we surrender a comfortable lead. Fear, is something all footballers, on the pitch have to contend with. Yet, with a few changes and the captain armband switching to DB10, there was also the introduction of Henry. Never had my mouth watered at the prospect of Arsenal, really turning on the style. The anticipation was just too much and I did not want the game to end, was this well oiled machine getting into the high gears. Read the view from Spain, Arse Blog but also the latest from all the news services on NewsNow. I text a work colleague, at the final whistle, "Anyone remember, boring boring Arsenal?" His reply was to just rub my nose in it, "CHAMPIONS!". Yes, a Chelsea fan. No matter what anyone says, August is not too far away. That is when dreams will crumble.

Watching Arsenal in this record breaking performance, made me consider the fact that I should be there, watching the game from the North Bank and not from the comfort of my sofa. I need to get myself moving to be in line for a season ticket for the new stadium. First stop however, is the final game at Highbury. Plus, I may not exactly agree with the colour, but going to have to order me one of these.

It is usually at this time we all begin making plans for the summer. So what have you got planned? Every year, I build this period up, as something unforgettable is just around the corner. In the end, nothing major happens and life as always just passes me by. While everyone else goes out and enjoys themselves. Today is going to be different. Today there will not be the sweeping statements that this summer brings with the possibility of sheer joy, happiness and warmth. The realist will tell you that expecting the unexpected is a much better way to live your life. Instead there are no big plans, no surprises, I am just going to continue on this journey and see where it takes me. The door is always open, for anyone. So should they decide to come back into my life, I will always let them in. If I am honest, September has always been the best month of the year for me. Why? Just consult the archives.

So we come to the underlying situation that continues. Progress is slow, almost nonexistent if I am honest with myself. At times I wonder why I have worked myself up into this situation. There are times when they are constantly in my thoughts, in all my conversations, even my dreams. Then days go by, when I am focused on more important aspects of my life. Sure, I wish there was something I could do. Something I could say. A killer line, like the hook in a romantic song that would make life much more easier for me. Yet the truth, if it would be told is. That I am as much in the dark, as the readers of this blog. In recent days I have come to conclusion that I must consider the future. A future which may not include them. A future, when I walk off into the sunset alone. While this is very hard, when anything significant is yet to happen, I realise that deep in my heart it is the only thing that will let me switch off and move on. As difficult as it will be. I must look to the months ahead and while there is just one date in the diary so far, I hope I can be bold enough to make it many more.

Sunday 8th May 2005

As another weekend draws to a close, I use this time on a Sunday evening to reflect. This day of the week has changed, so much for me over the years. At University, particularly in my first year, it was a time to rest, get shopping done, perhaps go down to the local Odeon cinema with my friends from halls. In the second year, moving into a house, things changed. Located further off campus, it meant I had become displaced from many of my friends from the first year. The day was spent working, until 2pm. Returning to the house to have some lunch, get some work done and prepare for another week of lectures, trials and tribulations. My third year was spent on placement, weekends are blurred in between my 600 mile a week trek to Bedford. I am confident, that I spent Sundays recuperating. Then, the final year, once again in a student house, Sundays were strange. Sure, I had bucket loads of work to be getting on with, but I tended to take my time and get things completed as I saw fit. My housemates, both on a Masters course, tended to go to church around 7pm, so I was on my own for a few hours. While I did not mind this at all, I had plenty to occupy myself with, it is just strange, now looking back at those times. At times life was empty and I could not see the finish line, but now is not the time to mention such things. Anything of note has been recorded, and there is nothing that can be gained by going back with post mortems and what if scenarios. We are altogether a better person and heading, for once in my life, the right direction. Onwards and upwards.

Getting up early, on Saturday, I got ready and headed off to Slough. I did not mention it at the time, but I had my first test drive in the Fiat Stilo Abarth in October (the exact date loses me now). Then, I had a quick drive which meant I drove home and then back to the dealership on the Bath Road. This time around, I wanted to make sure I got a better feel for the vehicle. This time around, I was given a black, 03 plate, hatchback, which had been on display on the forecourt. Due to this, I had to have those unlicensed plates on the front and back. Then, it was not until after I had driven off, and was way into my journey on the M4, that I realised that the salesman had not given me the Sat Nav CD, so no talked navigation, I had to settle for the radio. Eventually, I got it tuned into KISS 100. What can I say? The car feels so much like me? you put your foot down and the big engine roars to life! Yet, this car has a special feature, which I want to keep under wraps for now. It relates to a tale from my college days, and you will have to wait for a few months for that particular entry. Does that make sense? To read the full details of my obsession with this automobile, which started in April 2003, yes, I know two years ago. When I returned the car, just a few minutes after midday, I took my time, admiring the cars on show in the showroom. Fiat had just that day, launched the limited edition, Fiat Stilo Schumacher. Not only does the GP Champion give his name to this hot hatch, the whole package has been improved with thanks to Pro Drive. However, the specification in the UK still does not pull a single punch against that available on the continent. Therefore, I'll be sticking to the Abarth, thanks very much. Oh, but I will be having the addition of the GP kit. Those 18" alloys, just look too tasty. Planned to be dropping on my driveway towards the end of June. So, stay tuned.

Arsenal beat Liverpool to secure themselves 2nd place, with automatic qualification into next season's Champions League. Fantastic game to watch, with Arsenal at their entertaining best in the first half, only to take the foot off the gas pedal in the second half to soak up pressure from the Mersey side European Cup Finalists. Thankfully, our little Spaniard, smashed home the third goal to take the tie beyond Liverpool. Joy in the blue half of the city. Did you see the intelligent, well waited pass by Bergkamp? For once, I disagree with Arse Blog, and he deserves one final season at Highbury. Now, what do I have to do, to get onto the waiting list for a season ticket?

Friday 6th May 2005

With Friday comes my weekly blog entry. Sometimes, I consider that I should keep my blogging to this one day a week and include a detailed roundup of all the events in my week. While this was not be difficult to achieve, I feel the ability to record any moment in my life, which I deem appropriate or rather news worthy, gives for a much more entertaining blog. Friday is my favourite day of the week and in the evening I have the first opportunity to take stock of the working week, look forward to the weekend and make plans for the coming few weeks.

My mobile is never on during the course of my working day. Working on a help desk, answering calls to a 0800 number means I have little time to take my own personal calls. I may switch it on during the lunch hour to check if have messages, but generally I switch it on at 6pm, as I leave the office and get into my car. Most of the tine, there are no texts coming through and no voicemails waiting. Yesterday, Thursday evening was different. As I got to the exit and main road, my phone, now in my top right breast pocket, vibrated. First it was a voicemail, so I stopped the car, listened to the first few minutes of the message and killed the call. Then, back to the driving, heading home. My phone vibrated again, this time it was a text message. Completed unexpected, it was from the one person who has been on my mind more than anyone else. Yet another appearance on Murdoch's flagship News channel was scheduled for this evening at 7pm. No problem, I would be easily able to cast my vote and be back in time to catch the latest from Santa Barbara. Seconds later, I got another text message, sent earlier that afternoon. The appearance had been moved to 6.45pm. This was going to be tight. I put my foot down, thinking of the most suitable reply to the original message, as I sped across from the lavish Berkshire countryside into the deep Chiltern hills. The clock was ticking. I needed to get home, collect my vote notices and then walk over to the polling station for my ward. Then rush back in time to catch Sky News. As I left the house and walked up the road, I checked my watch, it was coming up to 6.30pm and I would have to rush to get back in time. Some among you may have opted to go and carry out your democratic right, your civic duty later in the evening. This evening had been planned for months in advanced. I was not going to let myself or my dear Grandfather down. So, walked at a brisk pace to the polling station which is only 5 minutes away. Not sure why some people would decide to drive there, there is no parking and major roadworks on the main road. For my first true taste of democracy this was not the most memorable. At the entrance, an lady in the autumn of her hears, checked and recorded my number on the electoral roll. Then, I entered this local Community Centre. The queue was surprising long, with around half a dozen people ahead of me, and only three voting booths erected in the middle of the main stage. This is it, I thought to myself, as I watched the machinery of the people power hard at work ahead of me. A system was clearly in place and executed with precision. The first lady, took your voting cards, noted your number and issued the parliamentary voting paper, passing this along to the next lady. She then noted down the my electoral number on what like a raffle ticket booklet. My local council ballot paper was then issued and both papers passed onto to a middle aged man, who had the fantastic job of operating a stapler. Then, the papers were passed onto me, with my polling cards tossed onto a back table, which had by this time, a mountain of other cards. These were the most important documents that I had in my hand, as I headed towards the only voting booth that was free. In the middle, a small blunt pencil had been placed and I quickly marked a large cross on both papers, folded them and placed them into the ballot box. This final act, was perhaps the most satisfying of all. Putting to rest, four weeks of strained campaigning, which had seen the news services converted into this industrial strength election organ grinders. Enough, I had other things on my mind, as I left the building, rushing back towards home. As I approached my housing estate (that does not sound right, perhaps my residential neighborhood) my mind came to the realisation that perhaps I had missed this appearance and not to fret, for there would be plenty more before the case was laid to rest. The sun was shining brightly for the final burst of sunshine for the day, as I headed back. I got in, switching on the television, checking the time it was 6.46pm, I had made it just in time. Watching my television light up with your face, in mid flow responding to some tough questions from the news presenter. Comfortable under pressure, the professional performance always comes through with something positive to give back. Then before I had time to sit down, they news agenda changed to another story, sports, if my memory serves me correctly. The moment was gone. I had to get in touch, let them know they had done a good job, but also confirm that I had been able to catch the last glimpsing moments of them on satellite. Wish there was more I could do, than be a mere spectator watching from a far!

I know there is a long tradition to always rebel against the town of your birth. Not in the sense you hold a great grudge against the place, but just the fact that it is boring, there is nothing to do. Whenever you do go out, it is the same places and the same old faces. As my blog entry from Easter 2003, April 20th to be exact, clearly demonstrates. Thankfully, that will all soon come to an end. When I read through our local free paper, The Star, I was intrigued to discover a one page article about the redevelopment of the town centre. This programme has only just entered the first phase, but the plans are breathtaking. If all dreams become a reality and the artist impressions and computer generated images come close to match the bricks and mortar that is laid, Wycombe, my Wycombe will be the place to go and be seen. Watch this space, this is not going to be an overnight miracle, but I look forward to the day, when I say I am from High Wycombe, people sit up, take notice and actually want to visit the place. Oh, by the way, for pure reference purposes, here is the Google Map of my home town.

Wednesday 4th May 2005

The big day is tomorrow, and finally after what seems like a lifetime, but was only four weeks of campaigning, or rather electioneering. The only breakthrough in this election has been the blog going from the past time of geek's and social outcasts to the forefront of the news providing, even news making process. The BBC got in there with their Election Weblog. The dish served here was more entertainment in the form of the odd slice of apple pie, occasional with some double cream. While the old hands put their hands to a much more deserving cause, the Guardian Election Blog using FlickR and the Folksonomic Zeitgeist. I am looking forward to casting my vote. This is the first election, when I will be able to practice true democracy. In 2001, I place a postal vote as I was studying at University. I also happened to be more interested and less confused as the residents of the Newsnight Student House. Do people not know that people died for this right? It should been seen as a privilege and not wasted. For once in your life, taking part actually counts! My polling cards are on my desk, waiting for tomorrow and I intend to take the stroll down to the Community Centre as soon as I get home tomorrow evening around 6.20pm. I just hope Friday morning is as a new dawn, as it is a new day.

As you would expect, the Singing In The Rain Remix, as featured on the VW Golf GTI, The Original, Updated television commercial, will be released next month. The song is by Mint Royale and is actually worth listening to. Just a shame that the television spot ruins it for your imagination. Just read my thoughts on this betrayal by the German car manufacturer from February. Still waiting for some of the anthems, that will define this year and more importantly, the summer. If you hear anything that deserves a listen, please get in touch.

I really need to get myself out of this strange mood, I found myself in. The time away from work, away from the professional environment, I fall into oppressed mood of chasing a dream, an infatuation. While, in the past such feelings would not have been as difficult to bear, this is different. The lack of immediacy, makes knowing where I stand, knowing if my feelings are reciprocated, is an uphill struggle. Yet, I continue, to go against my better judgment and pursue my dream. While, at this stage, I can learn to live with being patient, in time, perhaps this will be the one thing that consumes me and destroys me? Who knows what the future holds? I just wish, there was a way to read someone's mind?

Talking of which. Hold on, let me start from the beginning. My friends may have unrestricted internet access at work, I tend to force control upon myself. There is only one professional blog I visit while in the office. Sure, it would be tempting to visit my daily blogs (as listed on my blog roll) but I prefer to save that reading for the moment my PC at home boots up. Plus, many of the blogs I read, would not be suitable to read in the work place. News Blog from those fantastic people at the Guardian is a fantastic resource. Not just the headline news of the day, but quirky stories from around the world, and a daily photograph from the days news. Yesterday, this gem was listed but has of today been pulled by eBay. So therefore you will have to believe me and settle for this link pick. I know you won't believe me, but a man was selling a mind reading machine, similar to that worn by Doctor Brown.

Better go watch the final episode of the Apprentice. Just so I can have a conversation with Sippy tomorrow. Otherwise he will just ignore me. Expect his response on his blog, sometime later this week, but I think it will finish with a bang!

Monday 2nd May 2005

May already? Where is this year going to? Time is free flowing and at times, as one day passing into a next, I seem to forget that it is 2005 and I turn, 24 this year. The summer is soon to be upon us and with that comes those special moments that only the hot weather can bring.

Funnily enough, as fate would have it, almost exactly a year ago, I was discussing a film. Well, not the film specifically but one of the famous songs from the musical. The film is shown annually on terrestrial television, during the festive period. Last year, I had noted down, in the Radio Times when it would be on Channel 4, but never found the time to sit down and watch the spectacular showcase. Never mind, there would be plenty of opportunity to catch it again sometime soon. That opportunity would not surface again, until last night. While grabbing some food, I sat down to surf around the channels to find something worth watching. When my Dad is at home, he always switches the television over to TCM. I am not of the vintage to enjoy watching the classics of his era, just yet. However, last night, I did take the step, as there was very little else being shown on the other Sky Movie channels. To my delight, I was able to catch the opening credits to West Side Story. Finally, I came to realise why this had been such a successful movie and why everyone of a certain age has always recommend it to me. I wish I had the time to watch the film in full, but had to rename content with just watching my favourite number. Just think, if the BBC had not decided to use this as the title music to their World Cup coverage in 1994, I may never have heard the song, consequently the brilliance that is Romeo & Juliet, circa 1950.

Nothing else to report I'm afraid. Looking forward to the West Brom play Arsenal in the Premiership as we fight for 2nd place. As much as I hate Chelsea, I suppose they deserved to win the title. Not sure if it is refreshing to see another team, apart from Manchester United gain the championship. Just wondering how long I can avoid Chelsea fans at work. Bad enough them winning the league, they still have a hand on the Champions League. Although, they are foolish, very foolish to think they will dominant the league for the next ten years. Dream on. There is more to success than the odd rouble.

Saturday 30th April 2005

It has been so long since I went to the cinema, that I cannot even remember what I last saw on the big screen. This was an important event. This was the first movie of the period commonly referred to as the Summer Blockbuster. The big hitters coming along with major movies of the year, to entice the paying public to part with their cash and take their children along (to those suitable offerings). Read more about this and other rumours from the Hollywood, home of the beautiful people at Tagliners. So, I headed into Reading on Friday night, my old stomping ground. Many a night spent out on the tiles here, particularly during my college days. Busy, as expected there was enough time for me to catch up with my friend, in a bar, just next door to the cinema, before we headed in to see the main feature. We had to queue, but there were only a handful of people ahead of us. We had taken the wise decision (this time) to get to the correct screen in plenty of time and actually have some choice of seating for a change. While unreserved seating does have it's limitations, there is something that can be said about allocation as given by my local multiplex. Then again, that is the one only redeeming feature. Enough of this idle narrative, let us move onto the main event. I think it is foolish to consider this a sci-fi movie and therefore exclude yourself from watching (I am of course referring to the large female contingent, that read this blog). Sure, there are science fiction references, littered all across the screen, from the title to the actual great question. Though I wish to stress that the film overall is a highly entertaining adventure. The casting was inspired, with unknowns taking the place of actual characters, with the more well known celebrities voicing the machinery. I have not read the book, so apart from the basic concept of the story, which I already knew, I am in no position to comment whether this was a worthy adaptation from the book. For a film, dedicated to the memory of the late Doughlas Adams my friend, who had read the text, smiled with glee, telling me that it was a great interpretation of the story. This is a film that perhaps in the past I would not have seen, tending to watch such films on television or perhaps DVD. While I am sure I will see more amazing films to watch over the coming months, I doubt many will be as entertaining to watch or as original in concept, and so quintessentially British. If you find yourself bored over the cause of the next few days, I highly recommend you go down to your local multiplex and watch this film. It will by no means, blow you away but it will entertain you and you will leave the cinema with a big grin on your face!

so, what did you plan to do over the Bank Holiday Weekend? Myself, well nothing really. Just an opportunity to rest and sort myself out. Saturday morning, was a quick trip into the town centre, to arrange a few things. Nothing major but something that needed to be done and that I had been putting off since the turn of the year. Then I came home and after lunch decided what to do with my day. There was something that I had been wanting for my room, since October but never got around to buying. January had come and gone, missing the sales hadn't been the main barrier, just my lazy self. So I put it to myself that I was going to go and hunt down what I had been looking for. The product in question? An executive leather chair, which would not been missing from the office of any major managing director (or would that be boardroom, yeah, Sippy?) My destination? Slough, and the famous Bath Road. I had an ulterior motive for going to Slough, but that is not important. Little did I know that this was about to turn out to be a wasted afternoon, but I was confident of making something out of the day. To achieve something, even if a minor accomplishment. So, there was, a sunny Saturday afternoon, going in and out of every furniture store and retail outlet, with little success. My final stop was to Office World, which although open, had half the store closed for renovation. At last, I found some chairs, but the quality to cost factor was questionable. Plus, not only was the design of putting and out of character for my room, they were not that comfortable to sit upon, which meant, long nights in front of my machine would have got unbearable. I headed out back to my car, disappointed, perhaps the net was the only place to seriously look? After all, I know exactly what I am looking for and am sure there is a store dedicated to my type of product. We shall see. It was 3pm and I wanted to make my way back. Having promised my Mum to pick up a two big bags of compost from a local garden centre, I decided upon my course of action, the moment I got home. You may have heard 1980s pop starlet, Kim Wilde advertising for a well known nationwide chain of garden centres. This runs along side her other commercial engagement, with a high street supplier of food supplements. Sorry, I digress, back to Saturday afternoon. Our local branch is on the A40, between Beaconsfield Old Town and Loudwater. On my there, I got a text message and scrambled around my pockets to get to my phone and read the message. While it had the sentiments were what I had expected, they arrived later than I had anticipated. No matter, it was the second part of the SMS which briefly warmed my heart. It was 3.30pm and I had two hours until scheduled appearance. Not wanting to waste anytime, I loaded up two compost bags onto my wheel barrow come trolley, rushed to the till and headed home. Wycombe was busy, and I did not get home until just before 4pm. A man on a mission, I changed into some rough clothes and began to mow the lawn, front and rear. It had been 35 days since I had last cut the grass, and it was in a sorry state. All to aware I was until a critical time constraint, I tried to complete the job as quickly as possible. The front garden (if you can actually refer to it as that) was a simple task and no more than a twenty minute job. I quickly cleared up and then headed back outside to the rear garden. This is where the real job lay. Under normal circumstances I would stop, clean the Flymo at least once in between completing the garden. Today, there would be no such pit stop, I just raced up and down the lawn in record time. I rushed into the house to catch the time, it was a quarter past five. Carrying out some cleaning, I packed away the kit, into the shed. The final job was to take the compost bags out of my boot and place them in the garden, ready for the arrival of my Mum from shopping, so she could do some gardening later this evening. By the time I had cleaned myself up, grabbed a drink, I sat down and tuned over to 501 on the Sky Digital set top box. The on screen clock, ticked over to 5.30pm. Perfect. I sat down and waited. Apart from the main event, this was an opportunity for me to catch up on the news. I had listen to various CDs in the car and not put on the radio, so was quite oblivious to world events and terror attacks in Africa. While I was glad to get a job, well done in time to watch Sky News I was concerned that I may not be able to see the person, I was hoping to see. The clock ticked and the rolling news, rolled on. (Sorry, I agree that this posting is not up to my usual high standard, I hope I am forgiven.) Then, with minutes remaining until 6pm, the topic changed to the trial. There they were, as large as life, as beautiful as the sunshine that was filling my living room. While their onscreen time was crucially cut short, they nevertheless delivered a credible and positive defence for what has been a difficult week for the pop star. Then, in an instant, they were gone and the news presenter moved onto the next story, the next headline and the next analyst. This is the era will live in, of 24 hour news and online news feeds (even blogs, if you will). In this celebrity obsessed world, you are only as good as your last headline. Just a shame, that this particular person is not making headlines, just a part of them. Perhaps, I just wish they were a part of mine. One step at a time, one step at a time.

Thursday 28th April 2005

So we come to the end of yet another working week, but on this occasion we have the comforting thought of a Bank Holiday Weekend. Though I do not have anything major planned, I thought I would post a quick entry, to ease us into the three day break. Work has been steady and far more bearable with much less stress. Though I must confess, at times I wish there were more challenges to undertake, but must not grumble.

A summer of blockbusters on the silver screen begin, tomorrow night when I go to see, Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy. This would not be something I would normally go to see, particularly at the cinema, but I am curious. This curiosity stems from over eleven years ago, during my first RE lesson at my secondary school. The teacher had decided to bring up the question of faith and asked that momentous of questions about Life, the Universe and Everything. To this day, I do not know why she decided to bring up the book by Doughlas Adams and never decided to read the book, listen to the radio shows or watch the 1981 television series. It may have been an attempt by the teacher to break the ice and be humourous. Perhaps this is the best way to kick off my summer. An entertaining movie, from which I expect little and therefore can look forward to the subsequent films that I will be watching over the coming few months. Unfortunately I do not have the creative ability to do a preview, like a certain Mr. Bandali knocked together two years ago on his weblog. Starting a petition or just pestering him may force his hand once again! Over the weekend, I will let you know what I thought of the movie, but from what I have seen in the television trailer, it does look fantastic.

What else? Very little I am afraid, even though I wish I was making more progress on other shores than I am. Letting things lie and just getting on with it may seem like a great option at the time but what other door is open to me? Sure it is hard but the more I evaluate my current circumstances, I feel less a burden upon my shoulders. When someone is busy, when someone has their own agenda that they are surrounding themselves in, there is little room for movement. By following your heart, you always leave the opportunity for it to be broken, but it is far better to have done the things that you thought were right. So, perhaps tomorrow when I get some response, some feedback and a warm glow touches my heart, I will feel glad for taking such steps. Time will tell, but you will read it here first, no matter how ambiguous the recital of events are to write up.

Have a great weekend, whatever you get up to!

Saturday 23rd April 2005

Following a difficult few weeks in the office, work has found some stability. I am busy, but there is not the major urgency to respond to disasters as has been the case over a fortnight ago. So, how do I feel? I feel better every passing day and knowing that things are happening for me, even if progress does appear to be somewhat slow. Perhaps slow is not the ideal world, the results of my work are going to take some time to bear fruit. As I have said on several occasions, I am here for the long haul.

Thursday was a difficult day, and while I masked this in my entry a few days ago, perhaps I should let you know how I felt, leaving the office. Before I do that, let me first explain myself. As I pull into the car park, I automatically, lower the volume to the CD I am listening to a soft whisper on the stereo. Then, finding a space, or alternatively blocking in about four vehicles, I stop and switch of the engine. For a few minutes, I ponder my mood. Trying to predict how I will feel as I enter my car, at the end of the working day. In doing so, I select the most appropriate track to compliment my mood, for a few minutes after 6pm. Sure, sometimes I get it wrong and my judgment comes into question. Thursday morning, was a case in point. I had been listening to my Drive Time album and was actually tracking back from the end of the album. In a rush, to just select something, I choose a song, which I knew was highly inappropriate, but left it selected and headed in, to get on with my day. You have to realise, that I do not recall the song I have pre-selected until the moment I switch on my stereo, so it was a bit of a shock to discover myself listening to a song, I had not heard for some time. Even with a recent appearance on The Games (which my friend Nav, was hooked on!) and up coming appearance on Hit Me Baby One More Time on the other side. Yes, I freely admit, I was listening to The One & Only by Chesney Hawkes. In an attempt to recreate the opening titles, from Doctor Hollywood, I opened both the front windows, to let the air rush in, as I put my foot down on the gas pedal, and pushed the follow up on the CD player. For a split second, I drifted far away and was for the next few minutes at least, somewhere else, if in my mind only. Nothing like a song to lift you up. Nothing like a moment deemed by others (perhaps someone who may have seen this act) as out of character. On Friday morning, I had selected Republic - "Ready To Go" as my Friday night tune, to head off into the weekend. This was closely followed by Unbreakable by Michael Jackson. My reaction when any upbeat number by the King of Pop is to begin clicking my fingers, tap my feet and even attempt to sing along (very badly). My emotions are stirred in a way that cannot be achieved by any other artist. For a few minutes at least, you feel invincible. Why oh why, was the album not marketed as it should have been in 2001? This could have had an amazing video and been a major chart hit across the world. :( It is nothing for me to moan to the suits at Sony all I can do is sit back and enjoy the music. Hoping that one day, my idol will return.

Watching the final installment of the Paxman Interviews, I felt rather let down. His looked like a flawed feeble leader, having to resort to pieces of paper for a quote. If the quote was so important, and covering the core policy of immigration, you feel he would have the courtesy to memorise it. Jeremy, summarised the feeling of the nation at the end of the interview in a quick intersection, "Your going to need a miracle to win this election." Michael of course, was far more reassured in his position and that of his party. He was not going to admit defeat now, on life television, 13 days before an election. Don't worry, only a few weeks and you can be put out of your misery. Then, the Tory party can elect a credible leader with the potential to hold the office of Prime Minister.

Finally, it took five weeks for Tony Christie to appear live on Top Of The Pops and not a moment too soon. Perhaps they would only allow such a performance, once he had broken a string of records and got himself the first number one based on both single sales and legal downloads. I would like to stress the world legal there. Thank you.

Thusday 21st April 2005

Let me share with you a milestone in my life. When did you catch the current affairs bug? you might be too young, or find news and politics does not touch your life. That is your opinion and you are entitled to it. Let me take you back, 8 years, to a bright Friday morning, my favourite day of the week, and a new beginning. Labour had just won a landslide victory in the General Election, and I was watching Sky News before school. While munching away on my Kelloggs Crunchy Nut Cornflakes, I was trying my best to come to grips with the significance of this new dawn. Not only was I could up in this sense of new optimism. Little did I know that this was to be a more significant event in my personal life, than just in a change in the political and social climate of our country.

Before that day in May, I so no real importance in the news. My Dad would religiously watch the 6 and also 9 o' clock news on BBC One. I saw little relevance to the world outside. How could anything happening in a land far far away, affect me on this little, green, pleasant island. Yet, I do not want to give the impression, I was a complete recluse. I knew the main figures, our Prime Minister, some of the cabinet and most other distinguished members of the house. I just did not seen an importance for what can only be referred to 'grown up' stuff. That all changed in 1997, when I started to absorb the facts, the analysis and all the angles in the lively debate that followed any argument. Suddenly, I was hooked on BBC News, Sky News and later Newsnight and Question Time. If it was topical, I was watching, paying close attention and forming my own opinions. I had been hit by the news bug and there was no looking back.

Things became worse, with the advent of a dial-up connection at home, and the purchase of a WAP enabled mobile phone in December 2000. I was hooked on the mobile version of Ananova before Orange came along and bought the news service. Night after night was spending reading and digesting the news over my mobile phone, but the novelty of reading the latest news headlines in the palm of my hand, did eventually wear off. It was not until the advent of my broadband connection at home, that I finally was able to turn my hunger for the latest news into a reality. It was at this time, that blogs were beginning to find a footing on the world wide web, and everything, slowly fell into place.

That brings us swiftly onto my favourite news programmed, tucked away on BBC Two at 10.30pm. While, Jeremy does not present it as much as I would have liked, he does make the whole programme a joy to watch, regardless of the subject matter being discussed. Down to just two or three shows every week, Gavin Esler and Kirsty Wark are inferior, if only in interview style to Paxo. I know I have mentioned the show several times but I don't think I have given the presenter, the showman, the billing he so rightly deserves. It was this week, he finally came into this own with the Paxman Interviews. With the final encounter with Mr. Howard to be screen tomorrow evening. Is there really a problem when one man, of a large news corporation team can on the PM and be left beaten. As a strong believe in accountability, I feel it is important for us to have someone out there, willing to speak the voice of the man on the street. Ask the questions that we want answered and not be frightened to push Members of Parliament into a corner, if need be. This is what makes watching Paxman in motion, so engaging. Perhaps that is why the BBC keep him under wraps for only a few nights a week on Newsnight. The next question is why did they not do use a caricature (better than these poor excuses for artwork) of Paxman for the BBC Election trails?

Sunday 17th April 2005

Finally, after just under two weeks wait, the day had arrived. The day when I would finally get a drive around in Pav's 1995 M3 and meet some of his friends from the e36coupe forum. Perhaps I had hyped up the event too much, but I was too excited and got up early for a Saturday morning, at 7.30am. Knowing that Pav was already awake and about to start cleaning, waxing and polishing his motor before heading for Wycombe to pick me up. By time the clock ticked 9am, I was getting bored of music television. Sure they had played a handful of music videos which I liked but most of it was annoying contemporary material, which just does not agree with me. I begin to text Pav, to get progress on his movements and a potential ETA. It obviously was taking him longer to clean his car than he had originally expected, so I waited patiently, hoping that we would still make it in time to G-Force. When another hour had passed, I was beginning to lose some of my ice cool nerve and text Pav. He was on his way but wanted me to confirm the address our destination, so unwillingly, I switched on my PC, went to Multi Map to get some directions, which I quickly noted down on a scrap of paper. My parents had gone out in the other car, so I did not have access to my Road Atlas. The directions I had noted were patchy, so I was hoping that when we got into Aylesbury, Pav would be able to work out the rest of route for himself. My boredom hit rock bottom, when I decided to give up on Sky and switch on my XBox and watch my small collection of music videos. Thankfully, on watching my second music video, I noticed the purple car pull onto my driveway, Pav jump out and head towards my door. I switched off the XBox and television and grabbed my bag and headed for the door. My adventure was just about to begin.

Shaking my friend's hand, I came out to admire the time and effort he had spent cleaning his car. Sure, it was not a showroom finish, but I had not expected that. He had only had a few hours this morning to prepare the car, so clean was a of a high standard, regardless of the circumstances. It was gleaming, but perhaps needed just another coat to finish the job, but it was more than acceptable to be included in the Total BMW magazine feature. Getting into the car, I had to adjust to low ride. I have not sat in that many sports cars but I am always struck by how low they are to the ground and how laid back the seating position is. Adjusting the passenger seat back, I got comfortable for the short ride across over to Aylesbury. The traffic had built up by now, so Pav was not really given the road to show me what the car was capable of, but it didn't matter. It was a great moment to catch up with him and things going on in his life. Although the option to listen to the stereo was there, after a few minutes, Pav turned it off. He was not joking when he said it was completely pants. (On the list of replacements, no doubt!) It was a great experience to ride in the M3, and hear that engine just roar at a slight touch of accelerator. Nothing has been modified on the vehicle, whatsoever, it is literally factory standard. Ten years and eighty thousand odd miles on the clock, it lands in the lap of this Beemer fanatic. As long as I can remember, Pav has been into his BMW cars. I suppose, unlike me, he is beginning to not just realise but live his dream. I could go into the details of the day, of getting there late, but in time to be featured in the magazine (which should be published next month) and some of the characters I met. There is little time and what can I really say? It was a great day, but the pictures will always tell a better, more fore filling story. I am proud to announce this site will be come the unofficial blog for the planned modification to Pav's M3, so I will keep you posted on his progress on his beast.

Today, I drove to Nottingham with my Mum and sisters to see my other sister, Natalie. We left around 11.30am, which was way behind the planned departure time of 10am. Having spent most of Saturday out, I did not have time to clean the cars, although I had squeezed in a brisk hoover of the 307 just before Doctor Who. So, I got up around 8.30am, had a quick breakfast and headed out to jet wash my car, before we headed to the Midlands. The drive was steady, with light traffic on the way up. I opted for the scenic route, via M40, then at junction 10, cruising down the A43 passed Silverstone and then onto the M1 northbound. I find this journey, is the least monotonous and provides a rest bite between the two major motorway segments. Traffic tends to be dramatically reduced, so you are less likely to encounter any careless drivers. We made good time, but I was not in a mad rush, so kept a steady 80-90 speed on the way up, enjoying the sunshine and pleasant views of our green land. We got into Natalie's student house around 1.30pm. The afternoon was spent, watching the FA Cup Semi-Final and enjoying some home made food. Shattered from the drive, and long hard work at week, I drifted to sleep on the sofa, while my sisters headed to Asda to get some groceries. Waking up, I noticed the television was still on quite loud and I had missed another two goals, including a consolation for the Toon. Looking at my watch, it was nearly 3.30pm, where had the day gone? My thoughts turned to the FA Cup Semi-Final yesterday afternoon and the fact I had not been able to watch it live. Appears, that I missed nothing more than a 'cricket' match, were the words of Mark Lawrenson or Lawro as he prefers to be called. Reading the full report from Arse Blog I tend to agree with his sentiments, even if we face the old enemy one final time this season, I feel we are just coming back to our best form, with our full strength squad can smash this Manchester United team apart. Particularly if Fergie uses is the same tactics adopted in recent Premiership games. Sure, they cannot be written off, just yet but I believe we need to taste revenge and that will spur us on. It was time to go, so when my sister's returned from shopping, we made arrangements to head off. Heading back onto the motorway, after filling the tank with diesel, the weather turned and the showers began to come down. The sky turned from a bright blue, to a dull grey and I knew the journey home was going to drag.

Sunday afternoons on the road, are always associated, in my mind with Radio One. For as long as I can remember, we would be driving back home from a relative (either the Midlands or Hertfordshire) and my Dad would put on the Top 40 chart. Times may have changed but tradition and customs are more difficult to shift. My sister Samantha, wanted to listen to CDs but I preferred to listen to JK and Joel, as I had not done so before. Sure, the chart show has changed from the hay day with the legend, Mark Goodyear at the helm, but it was worth listening this afternoon. Diamond Geezer, as expected has all the details and his own personal verdict as expected. The combination of single retail sales and downloads, does give the opportunity for the chart to more closely reflect what people are listening to and not just what he kids are buying this week. Listening to the album chart segment, I was glad to hear the Definitive Singles Collection, spanning twenty years be featured and the fact they played, "The Sun Always Shines On TV". A soft rock pop song that is ideal for the moment, you change up into fifth, and speed up, down a slip road onto a motorway, just as the main instrumental introduction kicks in. Perfect, just perfect.

Friday 15th April 2005

As yet another Friday disappears across the horizon, maybe just maybe this entry will bring with it something different. The day went as expected. Work was busy, at times hectic but overall straightforward. Throughout this week, I have woken up with acute but not heavy headaches and this morning was no different. Hoping a shower would help shake it off and give me some relief I spent longer in the bathroom than normal. It did little to help and by the time I got into the car, the pain was there, throbbing in the background. Knowing I would find it difficult to concentrate the moment I walked into the office. Grabbing my bag I, got out some tablets and decided to take one, holding another in reserve for later in the morning. One was enough, giving some relief from the pain and enabling me to face the devil for the day. Not sure about your work days, but mine tend to fly past. Mornings can be slow, up to 11am, but by then something is happening and various tasks that need to be completed. Then, by the time lunch time comes around the office is a buzz with colleagues making haste with bundles of paperwork. Then, the afternoon long and drawn, stares at us, as we watch the clocking, wanting the minutes to pass by just that little bit brisker. The phones pick up, so you are then constantly busy with various support calls until the end of the day, but by then the office has become quite a lonely place and there are only a handful of colleagues still milling around. Then, the dash for the car park to see only a handful of cars remaining, with a few managers working late. Then heading home, on a short, uneventful journey to arrive home in time for Hollyoaks.

As I began writing this entry, WinAmp was playing my Audio collection in the background, as normal. I just dump a decade into the play list and let the random shuffle take over. The song flicked over to Take On Me. But not the original by teen pinups a-ha but the Metro Club Extended Mix by A1. Just as if scripted by some top drawer Hollywood director, my Dad walked into my room and told me that they were on a UK tour, later this year and that I should book tickets immediately, in order not to be disappointed. My mind stopped and I considered that perhaps this truly was my last chance. While a-ha are one of my favourite bands (I have all but one of their albums) I have yet to see them live. In December 1998, they reformed for Nobel Peace Prize ceremony concert and I should have been there. Sure it was in Norway, but it was at the time my interest in the band was at it's peak, and I had a large network of international a-ha fans, whom I had made contact with over the past few months. While I could be forgiven to let that opportunity to see a-ha live slip, there are no excuses for my next mistake. A few years later, a-ha had produced a new studio album for the first time in almost ten years and were once again touring. In October 2002, their tour bought them to England, namely Wembley Arena. On this occasion I got as far as going to book a ticket online, but every attempt I made, I reconsidered and decided to either wait or perhaps have something more important going on. As it would transpire, the weekend of the concert, I would find myself in Wrexham, spending the weekend renewing my long term friendship with DJ. So yet again, I found myself with the opportunity to see one of my favourite bands live in the UK. The choice of venue was important, I had Wednesday local trip to Wembley or a Saturday night in the Midlands. I opted for the earlier weekend date, purely for the ability to make a weekend out of the concert and spend time shopping at the BullRing or locality. So the two tickets are booked. Now, the next big questions, who do I take with me?

I am constantly surprised and inspired by the regular response I get for this blog. Comments tend to be quite thin on the ground generally and most postings are undeserving of any feedback. Yet a band of loyal readers feel it important to comment on what I have said and give their own fifty pence. It is not always my own selfish ego that makes me come back and write on this web site. It is more and more about the people who read and enjoy reading this site that make me strive to continue.

Thursday 14th April 2005

Three years ago, someone very close to me, was wild about the debut song by new starlet, Vanessa Carlton. At the time, I thought of it, nothing more than a great song, with a great melody and inspiringly fresh video. Listening to it now, on MTV Hits last night, I awoke from my sleep and realise how important the lyrics are to me, in the present, in the here and now. The brief verse which rings an eternal truth, "It's always times like these, When I think of you, And I wonder, If you ever, Think of me". While I try my best to not fall into such stupid notions of dreamland, it is difficult. Someone can be in your thoughts constantly, but you never know for sure, if they ever reciprocate this affection for you in return. That is not a major question for me right now. The road is long and I have the added benefit of time to guide me. What am I striving for? We all know the answer to this question, the truth and an end to the lies. When this happens, the door will become open and my path to the one.

Not much to report I am afraid, work has been hectic and demanding, but nothing more than is expected. The middle of April and with the mixed weather, comes the realisation that I have now been working for four months into this support role. Time has been flying and I am learning more and more every day. Sure, I may wish my job was more exciting and glamorous but right now, that is not what my heart longs for. Stability, a foundation from which to gain experience and develop nurture my skills. Hmmmm, perhaps I better stop myself before this entry becomes far too work related.

There is very little going on in my life at the moment and little to look forward. I do not want to give the impression that I am not happy. This is no the case, I am very content but putting this down into words is difficult, particularly those whom do not know me or make contact with me on a regular basis. Slowly a routine and standard pattern is merging and I suppose like any human being I am slightly, apprehensive. The summer is around the corner and the prospects limitless. Yet, inside I still feel that there is something missing from this jigsaw puzzle. It is difficult to put a finger on this 'something' but I am still searching and contemplating. When was the last time you feel like you could touch the moon and every single one of your worries melted away in that instant? For me that moment, perhaps have never truly materialised. There is hope, my time will come.

Sunday 10th April 2005

Never expected the response I received in my comments following on from the posting on Monday, regarding events from last Sunday evening. While it is tempting to stop this facade and reveal all, there would be little fun to end the mystery so soon. I use the word mystery loosely. Many of you, who read this blog will already know who this mystery meeting was with. Those who are still wondering whom I am talking about, really need to open your eyes to some simple facts. This may be too much of a give away, but the person has only entered my life this calendar year, and is always associated with a great superstar. That is enough from me now on this subject, for I feel over the coming months, there will be little fresh news on the topic. I will endeavour to bring you any relevant information but it really depends on how things are progresses in the court room, as much as anything else.

I know I mentioned my FlickR account, in the final entry from March. That was more of just an announcement that I had taken the bold step to open an account. Last night, I finally got around to uploading some images. The full linkage is on the Photos page. While I am trying my best to take a photograph everyday, this is of course, not always possible. Instead I am trying to focus on quality rather than quantity. My photos are going to be capturing a moment, foremost then using my own creative ability to frame the moment as best as I can. If you have a FlickR account yourself, or recommend one, please drop me a line. I will create a friends list and publish it online somewhere.

Music, one of my major passions. I have been working tirelessly to improve my MP3 collection after a few months of neglect, even if the hard disk capacity is nearly full. I need to get back into the habit of watching music television and making a list of mp3 tracks to download. A religious task, it became part of my weekly Friday evening routine, while on my placement. I would watch the Box, as they screened all the fresh hits and then, later that evening I would download as many of the songs I could, then blog about them. I miss those days, those nights spent trying to put together a review of my week. While that was a difficult time for me, personally and professional I think overall the experience was valuable on so many levels. I realised the true meaning of hard work and knowing that no matter what happens, there is always hope. My blog was just beginning and I can never look back with anything but a smile.

There have been a few new tracks that I have downloaded this week. WarezP2P has been experiencing major problems over the past few days, so I have diverted to eDonkey2000. Although the interface takes a little getting used to, it is by far more reliable than WarezP2P or even KaZaa Lite. Most of the tracks I have downloaded, I mentioned in my last few postings. Apart from one. While I have little time for Jennifer Lopez (or is that J Lo or perhaps more accurately, Jennifer Anthony) the celebrity or even movie star, I have plenty of time for her music. While I was blow away by her entrance onto the music scene back in 1999, with some radio friendly Latino flavoured numbers. My personal view is that she has either found it very difficult to find a comfortable genre for herself and her music or has just decided to always go with whatever is in fashion. (Why does my mind tell me that the later is more likely the truth) She has had several collaborations and while I have no care for who is has or has not married this month, the music does stand out. By music I am referring to the tracks that are hidden on the albums and never really gain any commercial notoriety. For example, The One, as featured on the album, This Is Me... Then is an amazing song, moving and strong, with the vocals coming through on a sentimental musical arrangement. When you hear the lyrics, you see the quality and talent that this woman possess and a voice which is almost angelic. Over the course of several other tracks, she is able to capture the mood of a song and put this across. "Baby, I Love You" is a prime example of being able to adapt her vocals to the needs of the song. On Friday, I saw the ending of a video featuring Fat Joe, but was unable to note down the title. I made it my mission last night to find it and listen to it, in full. To my surprise I did not find the song featuring Fat Joe, but instead Don Omar. Not sure if this a change of direction for Jennifer but it is indeed a beautiful song and well sung, as expected. While I also downloaded the other version, the latino flavoured Omar version is far superior. Watch the video and read the comments on a blog dedicated to the actress and Hollywood starlet. Just what the Doctor ordered, a feel good track to get me through another tough week at the office. :)

Next weekend, Saturday in fact is all about some pure BMW M3 Power. My friend Pav is getting his M3 chipped and I will meeting up with some of his petrol head friends over at G Force Motorsport. Should be an exciting day, if you can recall the experience in the 325 just a few weeks ago. I will be taking my trusty digital camera and recording as many highlights of the day as my compact flash media will allow.

Tuesday 5th April 2005

What are your views on BMW drivers? I have to be careful with my response, as my good friend, Pav is the proud owner of two! Well the Answer comes from the Bank. There is a sound reason why we hate them. I had a run in myself on Monday morning, down the by-pass, but for once, I had (indirectly) the last laugh. A black 3 series saloon was pushing the road to the limit and overtook me at high speed. I thought it best to make the most of this high speed driver clearing the road ahead. Keeping my distance, I accelerated to catch him up (if I can ever realistically do anything but chase a Beemer!) Then, as the traffic cleared, I looked in my rearview mirror and saw the most magnificent sight. There are few machines that can be as beautiful as a woman. Nothing beats the figure of a fine lady, but there are some exceptions. Being a gentleman of the road, I pulled to the side in good time and let the driver of this classic automobile overtake me. His target was the BMW and I took so much joy, watching the Beemer driver squirm at the monstrous presence of a Aston Martin DB9. Instantly, he pulled out of the way, to let the super car pass, knowing all too well that he had just been given a taste of his own medicine. Revenge is a dish best served cold. We love it when a hero comes along and beats the villain in the end! ;)

Came home on Monday evening to watch some much needed music television. VH1 were having a battle of the decades, the Eighties versus the Nineties. For me, you would think it would be an easy call. The time of my birth, but there are reasons why it was never going to be such a simple split second decision. A song from 1999 came on, with a familiar introduction, so I put the volume up and sat down to watch the video. Nothing spectacular, but a feel good anthem, with a fun no nonsense video. Although I did not like them to begin with, in time I was converted and was even saddened at their departure from the music scene a few years later. I am talking about the boy band, 5ive. The video was Keep On Moving (as featured on 8th videos on 5ive USA). This event started a chain reaction with me longing to listen to boy bands on my journey into work the following morning. Now just where did I put my Drive Time album?

With the election less than a month away, we are under the invasion. The blog invasion, with even BBC News Online getting a piece of the action. Diamond Geezer pools everything together. Though I think I will be switching between the Beeb and the Guardians very own election blog. Not sure if all this news and analysis will be digested by the public (who are at the end of the day 'boss') I think I'm looking forward to Crick's Chopper every night on Newsnight. Which brings me onto the worst words in the political world. Surely there are more grimmer ways for us to have some revenge on our elected representatives. Someone much darker, must keep them awake at night. Perhaps the greatest enemy to the Corporation is one man and his blog.

Sunday 3rd April 2005

So I settled down in front of the computer for the remainder of the afternoon and the rest of the day. Or so I thought, at the time. Someone came online, which in weeks gone passed would have sent me into sheer ecstasy. That was then, this is me now. Instead, I noted the presence of them online and continue to do, whatever I was doing. (Obviously it was not that interesting because I can't remember much about it). Then, to my shock and surprise an MSN window opened and they said, "Hi". While this alone was a cause for a minor celebration, the plot actually begins to thicken, from here on in. Bear with me. This surprise conversation was leading to another more substantial surprise. Mentioning a minor event taking place in Central London and passing on an open, if not personal invitation to come along. I pondered, as I often do and was never that definitive man of action, which I sometimes play up to. Should I go? It boiled down to a similar matter of how much I wanted something and whether such a dilemma can be resolved by following my heart. What did I have to lose? In prospect was another boring Sunday evening, doing nothing in particularly exciting. Yet, still I needed my mind eased by a quick discussion with some of my closest friends. Friends that had been there from the beginning.

I called Nav on his mobile, and like a superhero responding to their call sign he came online, as the phone was ringing, so I duly hung up, to begin a conversation online rather than via voice. I did not have time to explain everything on MSN, so I reverted back to the phone and called his land line, when I got hold of him, I explained the situation and what options were open to me. His final words rang in my ears, as I decided to go for it.

I got dropped off at High Wycombe station at 17:59, only to hear my train rattle by as I purchased my ticket. I should have waited for the next train, which was just over thirty minutes away but instead I wanted to get there ahead of time. So I got my sister first to drop me at Gerrards Cross, which was about twenty five minutes away, but my train was to reach the platform in under fifteen. There was a need for speed and the need for another option. Without wanting to drive a crazy distance, my sister dropped me off at Uxbridge underground station. I raced onto the platform, vowing to take the next available train into the City. This was my first stumbling point, unknown weekend disruption. I should have gone onto the Piccadilly train but opted for a Metropolitan line service because initially this was the quickest way into Central. How wrong I was be. The tube took to me Ratners Lane, where I got off and waited for the next Piccadilly Line train to keep me around North West London. Having a few minutes spare, I rushed across to the displayed tube map and quickly calculated my route, via Ealing Broadway and the Central Line direct. A few minutes later, while I had confirmed in my mind the route, the next train came along the platform and I boarded, looking and my watch, watching the sun set in the distance. My mind working overtime to calculate my estimated time of arrive, 7pm was slowly drifted off the horizon and I would be lucky to get there for 8pm. Determined to make an appearance of some description, I send a brief text message, hoping that some news was better than no news. Not having time to check for a delivery report I made my way, on the final leg of my journey. As I came off the tube train at Ealing Broadway, I ran at speed to the Central platform, to jump onto the next train heading back into the city, with just a few minutes to go. The night was drawing in and we headed Underground, the number of commuters increased and I smiled at the thought that I no longer had to bear this time of journey for work and only for pleasure.

As my tube journey came to an end, I scaled the dizzy heights of the escalator at great speed and then, after passing the barrier, heading up to the quiet pavement of Oxford Street. The roads were fairly busy with several night buses and taxis driving past. Once I got some bearings I found the bar and headed in. Nervous, apprehensive my head was racing. I grabbed a drink, to steady those nerves. Following on from my journey, I feel I justly deserved this moment to relax and take a deep breath. Had this whole episode been a waste of my time and expense? I was to discover this shortly. Sitting down, I took a long gulp of my drink. They were going to be downstairs, I took out my phone and dialed those digits. My heart began racing again, and the phone rang. The phone was answered and a friendly warm voice. I got up from the chair and turn around, heading steadily for the stairs, making a slow, firm descent into the function room. So many thoughts rushed through my mind, but the most important thing was to make eye contact and smile. This was the moment, I had waited nearly three months and was not expecting, to happen for another few months.

Now, back to my notes. Yes, this entry was supposed me all about music. Music because I had little else to tell the world. That was what I thought at the time. I was listening to Coming Around Again by the fantastic Carly Simon the other day, and as usual, when it comes to these great well known songs, I wondered if anyone had been bold enough to attempt a cover. This meant a trip over the Covers Project. To my surprise this had been updated and now featured of all things a blog plus iTunes and Amazon sponsored linkage. This was a major improvement, even if more ad intensive interface. Carrying out a quick search, I noted that one of the bands to undertake a cover were Copeland. I tried to download the file on my favourite Peer to Peer program, finding a file but not being able to download it. It was not until this weekend, several weeks later that I finally opened my 'Shared' folder to discover the song laying there. I listened and was hooked within the opening introduction. I then searched deeper and discovered that they had actually recorded a whole album last year full of their favourite covers, dedicated to their fans. A taster, for them, while the embarked on recorded their next studio album. The full story is all there, on their official web site. An album that was finally released last month.

The BBC are well renowned for selecting the perfect music to sum up the feelings of a nation. They have been doing it for so many years, they have become perfectionists at the art. In June 2002, when England were knocked out of the World Cup, they played Oasis - "Stop Crying Your Heart Out". After the heroics of the Arsenal squad in the FA Cup against Sheffield United in the replay, once again the Beeb chose the perfect track. Although at the time, it was only the music and not the credits that came to me. I e-mailed Match Of The Day to get the details. Instead of a response to my e-mail, another fellow was given the golden answer. Feeder - "Feeling A Moment". Great video to this song too, but for the honest response, you need to read the exploits of the biggest Feeder fan, I know. Maybe next week, my weekend will be slightly less adventurous and I will be able to go into further details of my ongoing passions.

Saturday 2nd April 2005

Yet again, I find myself at the beginning of a brand new, a fresh slate, another month. April brings with it the sweet taste of summer, just around the corner. As the evenings become lighter, I leave work just in time to catch the sunset on yet another day. British Summer Time has is back with us. (Just look at the long legal history.) Or perhaps a quick trip over the fantastic resource that is Wikipedia with a brief history and dates for the how long summer last until 2007. The new month also takes me off the extended hour at work, so I once again finish at 6pm, with a fantastic opportunity to catch up on Hollyoaks. I must clarify this point, I am not a major fan of the Channel 4 soap. Missing episodes at length, is no problem and I can live without it, which is a completely different story from my obsessive behaviour with Eastenders. My weekend routine does not allow me to digest the omnibus, on Sunday mornings, it is just too long and I hate the idea of sitting down and watching television for extended periods of time, particularly on the day of rest when there are much more pressing things to be doing. Therefore my nature is to dip in and out of the soap, with no religious conviction to catch every episode.

The television theme continues with a mixed bag of good and bad news. The Beeb has already commissioned series two of our favourite Time Lord. While I was pleased with this announcement, my personal opinion is has come far too early. The decision was reported on Wednesday 30th March, fours days after the first episode was screened on BBC One. Then while listening to Five Live I heard the news that Chris Eccleston had walked out on the role, fearing of being typecast for the rest of this career. While at work, I noticed a colleague had the Sun newspaper with the headline: "Dr. Who Quits". While I can fully understand do respect his decision, he should have stayed for a second series. Being typecast is a fear of many big stars and for some whom have fallen prey to the curse, there is little solace. As fans we now have the dilemma of a new doctor being chosen who will not be able to incomparable to Chris. While a new face, will give the second series a new lease of life, whenever it is screened (later this year?) I do not think Eccleston will be no match for whoever comes to attempt to fills his shoes. I will of course keep watching and keep enjoying the journeys through time and space. Just a shame really, because we have been deprived of the man, who in my eyes had the making of the greatest Doctor ever.

On Thursday evening, I finally took some action, I had had enough. For months, but increasingly the past few weeks it had become a nightmare switching on my PC. The root course of this problem casts the finger of blame upon myself. In late July 2002, I made the first major purchase following my first complete month on my placement. A TDK Cyclone CD writer, was installed to replaced a dated TEAC writer manufactured in 1999 with a burn speed of 4. In doing so, I unclipped the power switch from the front fascia and broke the enclosure unit. Although initially I though I had placed my PC into a state disrepair, it was the wrong conclusion. With delicate precision I was able to place the switch back into the enclosure mounted behind the power button. The short term resolution was to switch on my PC and then always reset it, to initiate the boot up. This was not a problem until winter last year. When attempting to switch on my PC, pressing the power button - nothing would happen. It would take several attempts before you hear the 'click' of the power switch behind the fascia and the spinning of hard disks and fans as the aging beast comes to life. So on Thursday night my patience finally ran out and I took some drastic action. For the rest, you can admire my handy work for yourself. Perhaps this will keep the machine slightly cooler, but in case this just pushes forward my PC rebuild project. A project that constantly keeps being pushing back, with other more pressing financial commitments always raring their ugly heads.

Wow, my train of thought in this blog posting is amazing. Talking of financial commitments moves us onto the next topic up for discussion. This is a crucial month for me, as I rehabilitate into society. At the end of this month, I begin paying back the debt of my student load to the Student Loans Company. Repaying my debt to society, with an initial 9% deducted from my take home pay, which will be a substantial amount of money, even though I am on a good way for a Computer Scientist graduate. You must remember that you are reading the blog of one the most financially organised people in the world. Every purchased is checked and double checked, every credit card paid off in full at the end of the month, never a penny of interest paid on any purchase ever. Never taking out a loan or any other interest intensive money plan. Even though I got a letter this morning from CitiFinanical offering me a loan from £500 to £10,000. That was immediately destroyed and placed into the recycle bin. So the thought of a massive student loan hanging against me, would make me lose sleep at night, but it has not. Can I tell you why? Well of course you get regular statements from the Glasgow office, explaining the situation of my account and the amount of interest accrued so far. (The interest is marginal and related to inflation. Therefore I pay back exactly what I borrowed taking into account how much the loan would be woth in today's money.) What are your views on student loans and tuition fees? Well my response perhaps will surprise you. I totally agree with the idea of a loan system and repaying them once you are earning. Although I think the terms of my repayment deal are not as favourable as those that will be offered to the class of 2006 onwards. The days of free education from five to twenty five are gone. The reality is that University has to be funded and the student is one of the pockets to pick, even if that is a mixture of before, after and during their course. Then again, University is not for everyone and the target of 50% of school leavers aiming for Higher Education is unrealistic, particularly in the current climate of the job market. Talking to the Management Account about this very subject at work, this week, he explained that my degree was a 'waste' and I have a tendency to agree with him. Little on my course prepared me for the demands of everyday working environment, although I picked up most of these skills in my placement year. In honest reflection the most important skills I learnt were on my placement and apart from a Networking module, little that I learnt in the lecture theatre has any influence on my day to day role on a Support Desk. That then poses the question, what is a Computer Science degree worth?

Monday 28th March 2005

So, the Easter weekend is over! Back to work tomorrow, back to reality with a bump! Did you do any of the following? When is the next Bank Holiday?

I had been planning this for several weeks, but finally on Friday night, got around to creating my own FlickR account. It was all prompted by an article on BBC News last week. I know that photos are an important element of any blog and I have been falling behind, particularly in recent months, for quality content in this area. My gallery, is always coming up to being a year out of date, so that will need an overhaul at some month over the summer. My FlickR account is T3G (Teg was unavailable) but I am yet to upload any images. As a perfectionist, I want to firstly assure that only the best photos are uploaded, but accurately categorized and tagged. Give me some time and I hope to bring some exciting images from my daily life. In the meanwhile, if you have a gallery, which you feel deserved a browse, please get in touch.

To fill in the gap between morning and afternoon, I was looking for a new blog to inspire and entertain me. I searched around Google for a while, with little luck so transferred to Blogger and used the Nav Bar and kept hitting on Next Blog button to go onto the next random blog. Although I found a few interesting blogs, they either appeared to been abandoned or gone into a strange hiatus. To my surprise, several blogs appeared which were just spam, identical postings trying to sell a product or service. As expected, my blog search proved unsuccessful. So, once again I turn to you, dedicated reader. I need to any suggestions for blogs, both personal, work related or subject specific. Please drop me a line and let me know. All suggestions will be gratefully received and considered.

Saturday 26th March 2005

What do you do on your days off? I ask, because I was having this discussion with a customer on the phone, who had taken the day off to deal with all the problems with her computer. In the course of the conversation, I admitted that my days off are preplanned with so many things to do. This Saturday was another case in point. Usually, my weekend is spent resting and cleaning the car. Having done this already yesterday, I had other things to do. First was a trip over to the Peugeot dealership. Then, while in the area, I was hoping to head over to a local Honda garage but couldn't remember exactly where it was. The place I thought it was, had been converted to an Alfa Romeo sales showroom. Conscience of the time, but not wanting to head home straight away, I took a detour around the countryside, taking in some of the pleasant views of our green land, around Berkshire. The sun was shining, and for the first time, I put the air conditioning on in the car, while cruising around, admiring the view. My daydream could not last forever, so I headed back into Wycombe town centre, there were a few jobs to do. Plus, I was working to a strict deadline, even if my actions and demeanor did little to reflect this. My shopping trip into town was not the standard browsing affair. I knew what I wanted and made the two purchases, in quick succession. No games, no sales pitch. I knew what I was looking for, asked the sales assistant and paid for my goods and left the store. Returning home, I had a few hours to kill before the action began.

There is something that stirs inside, with the prospect of an England game. Even the meaningless friendly, brings a sense of great pride, deep passion for me. I suppose, this feeling, is built into the anticipation. Hope that over the next ninety minutes, heroes will be cemented and reputations forged forever. I expected a solid performance from England and a demolish of the Irish. The first half proved to be entertaining, with the English frontline, just could not produce the end product. Attack after attack, was either cleared or magnificently saved by Taylor. Goalless at half time, the air of anticipation was heighten, knowing full well that World Cup Qualification was hanging in the balance, particularly with Wales holding Austria to the same half time score up the road in Cardiff. The second half was either going to be more of the same, potentially Northern Ireland holding on and perhaps nicking a goal on a brief counter attack. Instead, to the delight of the sell out crowd at Old Trafford and the rest of the country, the script was different. For a change, Sven's chosen squad delivered the goods and in true style, with a young Joe Cole, particularly turning in a fine commanding performance. My hope is that this result can lead us to bigger and better things, as an air of confidence instills itself in the team and promise of Germany 2006. Wow, this is such a mouthwatering prospect.

Now, to the highlight of my weekend (so far). The return of the great Doctor. I've been waiting all my life for this moment in time, my whole childhood has been standing still waiting since 1989. Luckily I only watched a handful of episodes (to my knowledge) in the late Eighties, therefore did not get pulled in (perhaps that is impossible, when you are aged seven). So, maybe that statement is a slight over exaggeration. Nevertheless, I had been waiting for tonight, 7pm for many years. I want to be careful of what I say here. I am not some obsessive fan of the sci-fi series, as some may believe. I watch the shows, enjoy the movies and read some of the great fan sites. The whole concept of the show is highly appealing because of all the possibilities and always has been. Glad to see it back were it belongs, on the BBC and on a Saturday night. I did expect to be disappointed but at 7.45pm, I was instead, looking forward to the next installment. The most striking aspect of the show, was the pace. Previous series had too much time devoted to the Time Lord pondering what to do next, or conjuring up some plan to defeat the Darleks. Chris Ecceleston breaks the conventional mould of the previous doctors but playing the role, with a quick wit, raw urgency for action and an eye for danger. I think it is important to put this episode into context. It is the return of our beloved hero, so therefore an introduction of what is yet to come. The BBC would be foolish to play all their trump cards in their first hand, for our expectations would be too high for the whole series. Instead, they have kept it simple, to bring us in and of course the great band of new fans and hook us in for next Saturday night. Perhaps the only person to truly give an accurate verdict, is the last incarnation of the television Doctor.

Friday 25th March 2005

So, here we are, yet another Easter. With the holiday break upon us, and four days away from work, instead of the customary two, I thought it important to consider how quickly the year is passing already. Christmas, feels only a few weeks away, but it is in fact exactly three months ago. Why is the time passing so fast? I know work is a major element. I am constantly busy, so the days pass by within the blink of an eye and the weeks seems to revolve around in an instant with little rest bite. I get up, go to work, come home, eat, watch television, go to sleep for the whole sequence to start again, for the following day. While I confess, routine is something my heart longs for, there is something missing from the picture. Perhaps the fact that days are passing by and my sense of achievement is not as significant as for other people. No matter, I plod on and keep on running, winning in some cases. There are many milestones to come and I know at least one is just around the corner, painted in a bright maruno blue!

Today is Good Friday and this weekend, the Christian festival of Easter. Sorry about stating the obvious, I know there is little need to do so. Although there is little need for me to dwell on this subject any further, for DG has done an excellent job explaining the rarity of an early Easter. Off all the blogs I read on a daily basis, his has to be the most accurate in terms of content. Every subject matter is thoroughly researched and the opinion given with sound reasoning and each link exclusively illustrating a point mate. At times, I think I should stop blogging and just place a permanent link to Diamond Geezer. The greatest thing about his blog, is his ability to give you such a personal insight into his life, without ever revealing his true identify. It is super heroes such as this that the blogging world salutes.

Of course, I have been patiently anticipating the return of the great Doctor. Although once again, there is little need for me to go on about anything at all. I will be glued to the television screen at 7pm tomorrow night, having successfully taken hold of the Sky Remote. DG on this occasion successfully links all of the previous television doctors with London. Strange how one location plays such an intriguing part in the longest running sci-fi series on television. I never knew I shared my birthday with such a greatly loved hero.

This is actually turning out to be a 'lads' weekend. With the afternoon starting with several World Cup Qualifiers. I will of course be cheering on England as they face home international rivals, Northern Ireland at Old Trafford. The signs are that Sven should name a positive line up with Joe Cole, on the left wing. Although I am a great admirer of the Chelsea man, I feel he still has loads to do, to bridge the gap to international level. I think England will secure their position top of the group, after these next two matches, with the benefit of home advantage. Then again, I could be eating my words, Wednesday evening, when Azerbaijan pull off an upset.

Tuesday 22nd March 2005

Firstly, I would like to apologise for my site being unavailable for the past twenty hours. This is purely down to the incompetent idiots, called Portland. I will come to them, shortly. For now, let me begin at the beginning. While working late, the office falls into an eerie silence, with only the noise of my typing, keeping me company. I watched, with envious eyes, as my friends group on MSN started to fill, in contrast to my work group, which was nearly empty. A few of my friends, returning from work or the daily dosage of education (be it school, college or university) started a conversation with me, thinking I was home. Quickly, trying to explain that I was still at work, I passed over my personal web address, for them to read the latest news. I was then informed that my site was down, so I quickly checked myself and was gutted to see my site down. This is not the first time there has been substantial downtime for my site. Sure, it is a personal site, but that is not the point, I pay for quality hosting, which I was informed at the time of purchase had a 99.99% uptime rate. What makes the situation even worse, is that I was well aware my hosting was coming up for renewal. So, last Tuesday (15th March) I e-mailed Portland. (Only one contact e-mail address - can you believe it?) The e-mail was sent, I know, it is sitting in my sent items folder. I was hoping for a reply by now, a week is more than enough time. Instead, the twats pull the plug on my site, without even notifying me. Then, the cushing office hours are 9.30am until 4.30pm, what sort of adequate coverage is that? I would not have an issue with this, if their e-mail support lived up to some sort of expectation. Then, when I got through and spoke to some lady, she had the cheek to tell me that the renewal notices had already gone out? The second I received the e-mail, I paid up, thanks to my flexible Visa friend and by midday my web site was back up and running. Thank you finally, Portland. If only they knew how disabled I feel without my web site, somewhere all my dedicated fans can read all about me and find out all that has been happening in my life. I am going to put Portland on a probation period, firstly judging them on the response I receive from my letter of complaint, which should be issued later this week. Then, if service is not improved, which is high likely, I will port over to 123 Reg, which happens to host my other site (& blog) andrewtegala dot net. Sometimes, just sometimes, you have to bite the bullet and admit that good service costs money, and therefore third world quality just will not do.

How are you? I feel good, even taking into account some of the other underlying issues that I have to deal with. Amazing, that is how I would describe the way in which one conversation on MSN, opened my eyes to the error of my ways. Others had cause to have the same opinion on my ongoing dilemma but I had not seen the writing on the wall, until Sunday night. While, I have to be careful to protect my sources and the identity of my friends, I feel I owe someone a great apology and another person a great big thank you. At last I have seen the error of my ways. I know that my approach was completely flawed, but I know only because you have told me as it really is, rather than the fantasy, which I saw unfolding before my very eyes. Yet, I wonder what now? To follow the course of action you are recommending is not impossible, difficult but by all means workable. I need to find something, rather than someone else to inspire for the time being, to take my mind off things.

The world awoke on Monday to note the passing of a great man. Although, Mr. DeLorean shared the front cover of the Guardian newspaper, with his beloved DeLorean sports car, I felt a deep sense of loss at his passing. Never meeting the man, I felt touched by his dream, his vision, his ability to go against all the odds and build a car company from nothing. The car has widespread appeal and will continue to live on for another thirty years. Many things have been written and said about John, even the final sentence to his obituary points towards some his rather shady dealings, which bought him down, with his car company. Although, let me tell you now, there is more to this than meets the eye. Search around the web, there are many conspiracy articles to be read, some of which hold water, against a Conversative government lead by Marggy Thatcher. Just read an archive article from BBC News Online, gull wing for the gullible I don't think! Dream makers are few and far between, if you consider we are all dreamers. Perhaps for a more balanced few we need to go back to the source. The story could have been very different, if the DMC-12 would have been built in Mexico or Puerto Rico.

Sunday 20th March 2005

I began writing this post, mainly to give an update on last night's posting. Then, my Dad called me to let me know the news, I was stunned by what I was told. John Z. DeLorean had passed away, at the age of 80. Quickly, I went into the living room and channel hopped across the 24 hour news channels but there was no breaking news. Who would be interested in the death of a salesman? To me, John represented something far more than that. He was a visionary, willing to not just think out of the box, but following this with dedicated conviction. The result was a DeLorean Motor Company and the DMC-12. You may have become hooked like me in 1985, with the release of Back To The Future, which bought the concept sports car, wide fame and fortune. (On a side note, I love the channel controller for five they appear to always choose the 1980s classics from my childhood and screen them in the family early evening slot, every Sunday.) It has come as a shock to hear of the passing of DeLorean, so the news has only just now begun to filter onto the news web sites, here is a quick roundup. Expect further opinion from myself, once I have had some time to digest the news. Will there be a segment placed on Newsnight or the trusty Newsblog tomorrow morning.

What is it about the best laid plans of mice and men? Things never work out as you had hoped. While I am slowly coming to terms with this, I am not to sure how other people deal with continued disappointment. A brief conversation on MSN, brought with it the news that the scheduled appearance on Channel 4 News, had been cancelled. The other party, with whom the heated debate had pulled out, which has understandable consequences. While I was of course, disappointed, I should consider this perhaps a blessing in disguise. I had already had my thirty minute dosage yesterday afternoon and the fact that they would not be appearing on television to a much wider audience, allows my postings to still hold the air of mystery they are supposed to. My secret, if you can call it that, remains in place for the time being.

While I no longer watch television during weekday mornings, I make up for this during the weekend. I am usually the first awake in the household, particularly on a Saturday. I switch on the television and instantly tune into 440, cycling up to 473, which is the final music channel. Then I start again from 440 and work my way around again. Looking out for music videos that appeal to me and my strange musical tastes. During this time, which most people would regard as the most awkward viewing of television, I usually find a few favourites to enjoy. This afternoon was yet again, a case in point. I was thinking about my current situation and how I am waiting, letting things untangle themselves in good time. Although the lyrics do not translate exactly to my circumstances, the sentiment is there for all to see (or is that hear?).

But I'm in so deep. You know I'm such a fool for you.
You got me wrapped around your finger, ah, ha, ha.
Do you have to let it linger? Do you have to, do you have to,
Do you have to let it linger?

Oh, I thought the world of you.
I thought nothing could go wrong,
But I was wrong. I was wrong.
If you, if you could get by, trying not to lie,
Things wouldn't be so confused and I wouldn't feel so used,
But you always really knew, I just wanna be with you.

Saturday 19th March 2005

Seven days have passed since my last posting, but you don't need to have a Mathematics degree to work that out. To say I have been busy, would be an under statement. There just has been so much going on, with the office move and technical hiccups with gremlins in the phone system. Although I did find the time to post on my work blog. Days seem to be passing fast and the amount of work I get done seems miniscule, almost unrecognizable. Do not think I have worked for any firm, where the days pass so quickly. Is that such a bad thing? Not too sure, but wish I felt more productive than I do, at the end of a hectic day, manning the phones.

The mission for this week, was to obtain the video to the Comic Relief single, Tony Christie, featuring Peter Kay, (Is This The Way To) Amarillo?. Yes, the purists among you would have told me to stop being such a tight case, and go and purchase the single. After all it is for charity. But that would be too easy, so instead I decided to hunt this humorous music video down. Well in fact, I did none of the searching and left it in the hands of a trusted friend. Coming back online, after an absence of eleven days, Nav finally came online, after replying my GMail about his recent, AWOL status. It was great to see him back online and catch up. Unfortunately, he had not seen any of the seven hours of nonstop entertainment on Red Nose Day, the previous Friday, so I did my best to fill him in on what he had missed. Pointing him firstly in the carefully guided direction of my previous blog entry. That would fill in most of the gaps. Sending the mp3 audio file, across MSN, we both realised how much longer it would take, compared to our days in the student house, last year. MSN would detect that we both connected to a local network and make use of the 100mbps bandwidth. The file transferred soon enough and Nav too was able to enjoy the splendor of this 1971 classic. Believe me, it is catchy and you too soon will be humming it everywhere you go, driving your work colleagues and family mad. (I, would never stoop to that level, keeping my composure, until I get in the car, of course!). Then I began to explain the video, which my ex-house mate had so cruelly missed out on seeing. Without the benefit of Sky Digital, there was little window of opportunity for him to see it again, even though MTV Hits and Smash Hits have been screening the video regularly. It was time to hunt this mpeg down (well we would accept any viewable video format) and Nav soon locked onto a file, but was hampered by the lack of users sharing on the Peer to Peer network, KaZaa. (Even though he was using KaZaa Lite, the clean, ad aware and spy ware removed version of the software.) The file was MPEG, around 48 megabytes in size and would take around third minutes to download. However, as both his house mates were also making good use of the broadband connection, so the thirty minute download was a very optimism estimate. It was getting late by the time Nav had received the file and enjoyed the comic moment of Heather McCartney in full Dorothy dress, Ronnie Corbett falling off the treadmill, and the return of Geoffrey and Bungle. But where on Earth were George and Zippy? Maybe this is a question I should pose to my dear friend, Sippy. On a side note, a quick note on Rainbow. Check out an episode that happened to be broadcast to millions, but would never see the light of day, on children's television now. It is quite an innocent script, but just depends on your frame of mind :) Back to my dilemma of getting the video to me, Nav was not keen to transfer the file over to me on MSN, as his upload speeds were not much better than a conventional dial-up connection. So, we arranged for him to transfer the file across MSN the following day, during my lunch hour. Unfortunately, Nav appeared and disappeared that Wednesday afternoon and was not online again until Friday. When he reappeared, I quickly opened a new conversation window with him. Disappointed in the situation rather than being angry at my friend, I came over with a rage, shouting at him to pull the broadband plug on his housemates (in affect disconnect them from the router) and transfer the file to me, then reconnect them up. Not wanting to cause any frustration to his housemates, Nav decided to just transfer the file across on MSN, to check the upload rate and then terminate if it was truly not a viable option. The two attempts were unsuccessfully, even though on the first dry run, we did get a modest transfer rate, it was not sustainable. Nav raced to think of other options. The other idea was to use FTP but that would me, giving away sensitive account details, which can only be changed with great difficulty. The other option, which we had used in the past dropload. Naveen would upload the file, then an e-mail would be sent with a URL link, notify me that the upload was complete and the file was ready to download. This process proved the most effective and time efficient. It took less than six minutes for me to download the file. Transferring the file to my USB key, I was tempted to watch the video for one reason and one reason alone. Although there are speakers built into my monitor, there is no speaker cable connected up the sound card. In any case, I have my volume muted. I just detest the constant pinging of MSN! The reason I opened the file and watched the opening few seconds of the clip on Windows Media Player, was to gauge the quality of the MPEG. It was quite good, so my plans for the evening would not be hampered. When I finished 7pm, I left the office promptly, even if it was rather eerie, to find it so empty and dead, on this Friday evening, boxes to be unpacked over the weekend all over the place. Returning home, I quickly transferred the file over to my XBox and quickly watched the video in all it's glory, with full surround sound. The mission was a successfully completed. I sunk back into the sofa and smiled, a warm smile. At least one thing in my week turn out the way it should.

Friday brought with it, a sunny afternoon, but being cooped up in an office meant I had little time to ponder the beautiful weather. Today, however was yet another beautiful day. Though I did little make use of the fine weather, I had other more important things to concentrate on. After running a few errands and dropping my Mum and youngest sister into town, I returned home, in time to watch Blackburn play Arsenal on Sky's Pay Per View service, PremPlus. Yet another convincing performance from a depleted side, with the average age of the outfield players of 22. That is a year younger than me, so really puts the lack of experience of the team into full focus. I am sure there will be full post match analysis on Arse Blog. How was the rest of my day? Well uneventful, if I am honest. I wanted to get some work done, tidy up, file away some of my paperwork but as usually only made tentative progress. As usually the weekend begins with high expectations, but I never get anything done. Then again, what do I actually do at the weekend?

On Friday, I discovered that once again, an appearance would be made on a television news network. This time, however it was not the rolling networks of Murdoch or ITN. Instead, on Sunday the appearance would be on the terrestrial flagship news programme of Channel4.(The same place where this story began, 75 days previously). I felt a small warm tingle in my heart, comforted to know that I would lay eyes on them again, but the context would be somewhat negative and the circumstances difficult. I had faith, that my friend (can I call them my friend?) would be able to once again give a fantastic account of themselves, the fans they represent and the positive message they want to push forward into the debate. I did not think much about the appearance when I discovered it would be this weekend, I had other more pressing things to consider. I came on this afternoon, at the interval between the Arsenal game, to catch up on my e-mails and read my daily blogs. To my surprise, they were online, my heart leapt for joy, but soon came crashing down again, when it came apparent they had set their status to Away. Reading the updated screen name, I noted that they would be making an additional media spot this evening on Sky News at 5.30pm. I knew I had to catch this update on the roundup from the trial. The previous time they had been on, I had only caught a few minutes of the exchanges. Being at my cousin's house in Hayes and about to leave it was impossible to make out all the discussion, particularly with a young seven month baby, needing constant attention. My Mum had been watching her soaps on Star Plus, but I was hoping that I would be able to pry the Sky Remote from her, to watch the thirty minute slot. To my delight, there would be no need to have such a confrontation, my Mum and my sister, Julie headed out to a friends house, just before 4.30pm giving me the house to myself, and of course more important full control on the television. Tuning in early (as I always do) to hear the news of the Welsh win in the Six Nations. Never been a fan of rugby and hated playing in school. Diamond Geezer has a point that the sport is more of a spectator sport. Whereas, most fans of football (isn't that the whole planet) actually enjoy having a quick game on the grass, jumpers for goalposts and all. So to be honest, I had no interest in the result of this match, with the odd shaped ball. I was only interested in the trial and being able to see someone again. If you are waiting for me to give a quick summary of the arguments and what was said, I am afraid you have come to the wrong place. There are plenty of other web sites, blogs and forums where that will be discussed and in detail I am sure. Here, on my site, there will only be a sincere appreciation for what one person, one soul is doing to bring about some positive influence, some rational thinking to the trial of an everyday human being, that happens to be greatest living entertainer of all time. I read once, that Michael does his best to avoid the media, and blanket out all the negative, derogatorily comments that are berated at him. If this is the case, he is going to miss, with the blink of an eye, someone, doing so much for his cause. The cynical among you will say that the situation is hopeless, and there is little that a twenty year old Law student can do to change the course of justice. True perhaps, but for someone willing to go to such great length, personal expense and sacrifice to make a difference, is there not an ounce of gratitude? Making my response crystal clear, in a short sharp text message, sent within minutes of the broadcast ending, I wanted to let them know I was thinking of them. The smallest of gestures, but something I wanted to do, to prove that on this occasion, I had been able to catch the discussion in full. Even by sending the text message, I felt empty. I feel, as if I matter less and less with every proceeding week in the trial, as the days begin to darken. Sure, I am a nobody, melting into the background, writing carefully my feelings without giving away too much information. Yet, with such public and easily accessible appearances, most of you should have worked out, to whom these final paragraphs are being dedicated. They may never read them, could be better that way. This is turning into a roller coaster ride but I am not too sure if I am happy with prospect of so many more lows before reaching the highs and exit platform. A straight simple answer would be the easy option, but whenever the conversation goes in that direction, all I get is an awkward silence, or abrupt change of topic. This either is the case of an individual trying their best to hide their own true feelings or unable to be honest with a friend and let them down gently. Either option sounds more appealing than the prospect of further wait. Hold on just a second, it should just be another 75 days or so. Maybe then, we'll begin Startin' Something. :)

Saturday 12th March 2005

Those who know me well, and even those who have only recently got in touch should agree that of all the words that can be used to describe me, optimistic is for sure high on the list. Not sure where this positive attitude came from, because I have in the same vain, been told that I look too deep into things and ponder the what if scenario too often. I would never describe myself as happy go lucky but I do tend to find solace in the minor miracles that occur everyday. Observing the bright blue cloudless sky as I drive to work, is one of those moments. It was with these sentiments I came home from a stressful day at work, knowing there was an opportunity for Arsenal to progress to the quarter-finals of the premiere European competition. Having watched the beautiful game at it's most picturesque the night before. The difference would come apparent between the blue and red of London, over the course of the evening.

In the strange world of Arse Blog, the author had the benefit of a DeLorean Time Machine, some school bully called Biff and a Sports Almanac. So we were going to win an convincing three - nil and batter the Munich defense. I didn't quite share his great optimism on this occasion but believed we would get two goals and then go through on the away goes rule. The first half was painful to watch, pinned into our own goal area of most of the time, defending set piece after set piece. Scrambling the ball away, holding on frankly for life. The stats appeared, and showed almost exact equal share of possession between the German and English side, but it felt more like 70% to them and the remainder to us. I had expected more fire, desire, courage, particularly from our big name star internationals. We came to life, towards the end of the first half, taking a few shorts on goal and Henry only being denied by Kahn. If this tempo was to continue in the second half, I knew we were in with a chance, just a small chance of going through. So the second half came along and we played like we should have played for the first 45. We kept plugging away, but none of our major players came up to the plate, until Henry came up with some magic. I jumped off the sofa and much like the rest of the Clock End, was overwhelmed by emotion. Could we come up with another goal in the next thirty minutes? There is a saying in football, never write off the Germans. On Wednesday night, it was once again proved true. But that Italian referee was a joke? How come we got a policeman and Chelski got arguable the best referee in the world?

Did you watch Comic Relief last night? I try my best to watch as much of the live broadcast as possible, even if the clips showing the charity's work in Africa and the UK is sometimes too hard to bear. The story of the young street child, looking for her older sister, did pull on my heart strings. I am happy to admit that I did shed a tear. Some people may say that this is sheer emotional blackmail in order to compel me to donate. I feel it is far from this. In our everyday lives, we get trapped into the meaningless routine that is work. We get up, we go to work, we come home and the cycle starts again. Yet, we seem to take for granted the little essentials, of running water, a warm bed, a roof over our heads and even a hot meal. I came to realise this one morning, when I got up, this week, that I wondered what are we all doing this for? What is the point of being in this rat race. I think for one day, every two years, our eyes are opened to the world outside our window, where life is challenging to the extend of wondering where you will be sleeping tonight and where the next meal will come from? I donate, what I can and yes I feel better for it. Though something deep inside, tells me I should be doing more, being more active and trying to make a difference.

Back to the entertainment, there was several highlights in the show. The winner of Comic Relief does Fame Academy was announced. The favourite, Kim from Eastenders came into the final two with BBC Radio One presenter Edith Bowman. My money was always on Kim from the beginning, but the final two performances, made me believe that the Scottish lass would win. Over the course of the past few weeks, she had been the most consistent, improved and sung a variety of songs, as her confidence grew. Her final number, Champagne Supernova, by Oasis was given a special big band rendition with Jools Holland on piano. She was the deserved winner. For a change the public, got it right. The other big highlight was the special Little Little Britain sketches, featuring Sir Elton John, George Michael and Robbie Williams. However, the main attraction was something I had not expected. Peter Kay and a whirlwind of celebrity appearances as he mimes along to a classic by Tony Christie. Although I believe Kay is a comic genius, I have not watched Phoenix Nights and only briefly watched a few episodes of Max & Paddy's Road to Nowhere. It was news to me that the song featured on Comic Relief that it was featured on the original series. The clip was hilarious with Kay running along with a pair of well know television personalities which changed every few minutes. Just watch Ronnie Corbett flow flat on his face off the treadmill.

Now, the most difficult part of my posting, summarizing how I feel. MSN is a great way of communicating with people, down the road and across the other side of the world. Yet, you can never underestimate the power of a single phone call. Hearing a voice, feeling the emotion in their responses, means so much. You don't have to talk for long, and you don't actually have to talk about something specific, the most important thing is to know that they are there on the end of the line and for a few minutes at least you have their full attention. Nerves did get the better of me, and there were some awkward silences that I just wanted to fill. What have I learnt? That this is not a time to be setting agendas, making plans or expensive bookings. Instead, my success rests just as much with the outcome of the trial dubbed by the media as the celebrity trial of the century, as it does within my own grasp. If I am to believe this, then I feel even more powerless, for there is little I can do to influence events in a court room, over 5,456 miles away. All I can do is be patient, wait for justice to prevail, which I truly believe will happen. With strength and undeniable dedication, I can try my utmost to be the pillar of support, whilst still having MJ constantly in my thoughts, as I am sure there are darker days in court to come. I know it is stupid to begin reflecting on such things at this moment, with so much going on, but these events go back to a single starting point, February 2003. I recall vividly, how unhappy, unsettled and lonely I felt then. Never thinking that just over two years later, my idol would be on trial. With my feelings running a mile, all for the smile of beautiful stranger. Putting the time frame into context, makes the final hurdle of a few months, seems hardly any punishment to bear. In the meanwhile, I could easily 'adapt' the lyrics from the most famous song by Christie. Amarillo is interchangeable with Harrow and Maria can be removed and replaced by...?

There's a church bell ringing
With a song of joy that its singing
For the sweet Maria
And the guy who's coming to see her
Just beyond the highway
Theres an open plane and it keeps me going
Through the wind and rain

Is this the way to Amarillo?
Every night I've been hugging my pillow
Dreaming dreams of Amarillo
And sweet Marie who waits for me
Show me the way to Amarillo
I've been weeping like a willow
Crying over Amarillo
And sweet Marie who waits for me

Tuesday 8th March 2005

How long before the Doctor returns? If I am honest with you, I was never a big of the series, but did watch Sylvester McCoy play the Time Lord. That was my era, the late 1980s, with myself at the perfect age, just starting school to find the science fiction series fascinating. Sure, looking back now, even with rose tinted spectacles, the show has aged very badly. Particularly when you hold it up against American shows from the same period. For my impressible mind, McCoy was intriguing, and his assistant, Ace, had some great, if cheesy lines was played by cute Sophie Aldred :)

In May 1996, I waited patiently, just as I do now for the Doctor's return, but at that time, as great as the story was, it did not re-capture the magic of the original series. Unable to convince their American backers, with poor viewing figures across the pond, compared to the 9 million UK viewers. Last year, while trying to avoid doing work on my project, I watched the various episodes on BBC Online, in flash with Richard E. Grant at the helm. They were comical but with serious fast moving plots. As I had waited, I was able to watch each episode one after the other. Looking back these were wasted afternoons, at my student student house, passing the time before Hollyoaks. came on at 6.30pm. Then, it was announced that our trepid explorer of time and space would be returning in 2005.

The lessons have been learnt, and here I am again, nine years later waiting for a new Doctor to take on the mantle of Time Lord and for new adventures in the Tardis. The casting is inspired, particularly once Pop starlet, Billie Piper as the assistant. Although Rose, does not quite hit the same spot as Ace (on so many levels). Even with my matured age, and more refined tastes. I will ignore the leak, true fans such as myself will wait for a few weeks for the broadcast. Some of us have no need for spoilers or sneak previews, we can wait for the real mccoy. Although, looking back in my humble opinion, Walk of Life is an amazing single and should have done much better than 25, on the UK Top 40 back in December 2000.

Sunday 6th March 2005

It is a proud moment, when any individual decides to start a blog. Particularly when initially they were uncomfortable with the idea of sharing their views, even perhaps life story (or should that be history) on the web. Even seasoned veterans such as Sippy had reservations during his break over the past two years. I only visit a handful of forums, but one of my regular haunts is MJNI.com which is the message board for the fans of the King of Pop. A thread of the subject of blogging, caught my attention, and I just had to add my 25 pence worth. Most people, where using this as an opportunity to share their blog with the rest of the members, so I also added my own two URLs. A user, posted the fact that she did not feel comfortable with an electronic version and would be sticking to the good old fashioned pen and paper. Fast forward to this afternoon, when I am surfing around the forum, I checked a recent post by Anne on another thread, her signature I remembered by a new Blogger hosted URL was listed. I quickly opened the site, in a new tab on FireFox. Only started a few weeks ago, I was surprised at the honesty and reality of her writing. I left a quick comment on the first post, and then decided to make contact via some Private Messages on the board. Luckily Musey (her username) was online and responded to my messages. I explained to Anne, as I will do now, that to be added to my blog roll is an honour in itself. Although under usual circumstances, it takes a few weeks or even a month of steady monitoring before a blog is included on the list. There are few exceptions. On this case I am willing to make a special addition, based on my opinion that All About Anne will grow and blossom into an interest blog, worthy of a daily read. The fact that she is also using this as an avenue to show her support for Michael at his time of need. Admirable, highly admirable. The story does not end there, there is another link. The signature on a thread, for those not in the know, is the final sign off for all your posts. This can be an animated gif, or a banner to your web site, or just a few words. In the case of Anne, she uses the lyrics from an amazing, moving song. Questioning her about the song, I discovered she had only heard it recently on the trail on the Disney Channel for the premiere for Finding Nemo. Which I would like to add that I still have not seen the animated feature, in full yet. The 1980s, Wings like ballad, was mentioned by myself on Boxing Day, 2003. At least one of us, is keeping the Dream alive? I should really start working harder on that! Although I strongly believe, I do not need an official response in the form of a whole post dedicated to me.

Funny how different you can feel in the morning after, the night before. Particularly, when you discover the power of a single e-mail and a quick conversation on MSN. Hope hasn't quite turned into joy. Rather, stormy waters have been calmed with some soothing words and clearer understanding. Waiting no more, I am getting on with my life. That is not to say that the door has closed on anybody, it never does and never will. Some may judge me on my stance, for my drippy approach to these matters. If following your heart is such a crime, please be my judge, jury and executioner.

Friday 4th March 2005

Friday comes around again, and I feel that special feeling, driving off into the cold night, leaving work, the chaos far behind me, until Monday morning at least. Not sure, where this urge to celebrate the minor passing of yet another working week. Afterall, five days in an office, is hardly an achievement, compared to some of the more challenging occupations, I could be involved in. Suffice to say, I am happy that my line of work, is both rewarding and demanding, in almost equal measure. The moment, that balance tips in favour of one before the other, that is the moment, I seriously need to look for a new job. the big freeze that has gripped most of the country, came as a surprise, particularly those of us expecting Spring. On Wednesday, I drove past two of the most successfully and distinguished schools in the county, if not the country. In your school days, your elders will often remind you that your school days are the best days of your life. Just like everything you don't realise it at the time. Many years later, you recall how much possibility lay before you at the time and much you squandered the chances. Time to time, people ask me, do you ever wish you were back at school? With a firm response, I explain how happy I am with my life now, as an adult. Yet, on this morning, for a second I wanted to step back a few years and join the kids making their slow journey to the classroom. Most had built up a large supply of ammo, in the form a big ball of snow, rushing to find a gullible victim. As I drove closer to the school, the number of pupils out, making the most of the snow grew and I saw some magic moments, as the snow balls went flying across the cool wintry morning air. Fun. For a split second, I wish I was out there, covered in icy snow, regardless of the pain or shame, I would have faced. Coming out of my day dream, I continued driving, headed off into the distance. The reality of work had set in.

Time waits for no man, or music pirate. I prefer to use the term, coinsure of digital music, rather than a word which has connotations of ships, major sword battles, and talking parrots. So it appears that the same sort of litigation which swooped across the United States as landed on this side of the pond, but is this the final nail in the coffin? I think not, providing legal alternatives for music downloads has helped but how can they ever continue to compete with free? My personal opinion is that no matter how much they hammer the large peer-to-peer share users, a dark era of the web will exist for anyone, should they dare to get hold of any track they desire. Copy protected CDs and even Digital Rights Management are not fool proof. What big blue chip companies fail to understand, is that every system, any system is pregnable. There is always a back door, and our friends on the fringes of the internet fraternity, are more than happy to find the keep and open the door. Thank God that people like this are out there. My personal view on this heated topic is that if the artist is good enough, I will always go and buy their album, DVD, t-shirt and concert ticket. The digital revolution has enabled me to listen to a wide range of material, which in other cases I would never have been exposed to.

I have always been a patient person, but then somethings are worth waiting for. What makes things extra difficult in the current circumstances, is that I have put it upon myself to wait. Deep down, I know I have made the right decision, but this is difficult when your heart longs for something that is just outside your reach. The pain I feel is difficult to describe, particular when every day the media is almost fueled on the latest revelation, from a land far far away. Not the ideal circumstances to be holding on for, but there is little I can do to change that. Oh, why do I feel so powerless, so invisible right now? What more could I have done? What more can I do? Just as I write this (23:23) MSN Messenger flashes up with an e-mail alert. My heart leaps, and the small traces of a smile appears on my face. Hope. There is always hope.

Monday 28th February 2005

Been rather slow on the blogging front and to be honest, I have had little to write about, so posting seems like a pointless activity. When I have nothing to report, I try to keep in the positive by noting down some events in the future, that I am looking forward to. Instead I find myself in a strange limbo period, with work picking up pace, events in my personal life are nonexistent. Nothing is happening and there is little to look forward to beyond Easter and the sweet prospect of the summer. Yet, I should not be so pessimistic, life overall is good and I should enjoy the moment. As February draws to a close, I find myself already into the third month of 2005, with my memories of Christmas so clear, 2004 feels much closer than it really is. Where is the time going?

Does something happen when you enter the dizzy heights of super car owner? Is your licence, seamlessly upgraded by the DVLA? Or overnight, do you go from standard everyday motorist to wannabe Formula One driver. I have commented already that I work in an affluent area, perhaps one of the most wealthy areas of the country. Therefore on my travels, I notice many expensive, unique motor cars on the road. Last week, was a case in point, and I have two stories for your bemused. As the country lanes converge onto the by-pass, you go from a high gradient, down hill in almost roller coaster spirals down to the dual carriageway. While this is a piece of tarmac, that begs for caution, it is not a point to become a Sunday driver. Over the past few months, I have been at the tail end of this type of driver. They slow down to a crawl, failing to notice five cars driving quite closely behind. On this particular Wednesday evening, I was behind a Porsche, which was in term, tailing (dangerously close, I might add) a Nissan Micra. I was unhappy that the Japanese super mini, was driving so slow, but decided to wait until there was the clearing (on the roundabout approach) to take take over. The Porsche had other ideas, and over took the Micra at high speed, taking the outside lane, however, as I came around the corner, a few second behind, I watched, as the driver of the German automobile, calmly, drifted into my lane ahead of me. I was shocked, to see the nerve of this driver. Although I was not really concerned with his driving. If anything I was proud to see the act of such, smooth driving (if driving can ever be smooth!?). The other incident was more of a foolish attempt by an idiotic 4x4 driver to outpace everyone else waiting in heavy traffic. After cutting me up, with a sharp overtake maneuver, the driver of a Mercedes ML headed off the by pass and I thought nothing of it, continuing on my journey, until I came under the bridge and the slip road joining the dual carriageway came into view. No doubt, here was the exact same off road vehicle, trying to pull off the miracle of making progress into the traffic, which was marginal. I wanted in complete disbelief as this driver, instead of slowing down into the upcoming cars, which were traveling at a maximum of 12 miles per an hour, actually accelerate and almost bully himself (or herself) back onto the A road. I was shocked by this behaviour, mainly because they had gained so little ground, I was two cars behind. So what was the point? Power to the people, I give my backing to the Urban Alliance against Off Road Vehicles in towns, particularly the school run. The argument, that you enjoy your superior position above everyone else on the road (apart from a lorry or truck) is a complete meaningless point of view.

After over two years of waiting, nagging and constant berating here on my blog, my dear friend Sibtain has finally come to his senses and uploaded his blog, V3: The Resurrection, picks up where the last site left, with a new interface based on php and some fantastic graphics. Once the blog entries, including a hefty back log find themselves online, this site will become a worthwhile daily read. So, please stay tuned and for the time being, check out the gallery. The peak of the shame came in early June 2004, when I posted a Wanted Poster for Sippy on my blog (which was removed within a few weeks) and he decided to ignore me for several weeks in protest of my public acknowledgement of his failure to blog for such a long period of time. Where should I start? I think a great place, would be the beginning.

Both of us began keeping an online journal at around the same time, but for very different reasons. Without having the archives to refer to it is difficult to pin a date on this moment, but around September 2002, Sibtain began writing a blog, while I had started just a month before him. His blog, focused on the second year of his Multimedia Computing course, and hunt for a placement, while I was a year ahead on my placement and recording, on a weekly basis my experiences, feelings and thoughts. This was an ideal way for us to keep in touch and share what was going on in both of our lives, with over one hundred miles between us. While my site never stopped, only having a major cosmetic makeover in early November 2003, my Uni friend and ex-house mate site had come to an abrupt end in June, five months earlier when he had signed off, a day before he headed off to Kenya and then it was forgotten. I begged, I pleaded but always held up hope that Sippy would return to blogging. It never happened, in the summer of 2003, with so much else going on, he never got his site together. My next hope was that he would get something together before we started our respective final years and would be thoughts drifted to the FA Cup ties taking place this weekend, and the lunchtime kick off that pitched Arsenal against Sheffield United. My thoughts returned to the road, as I caught the eye of a number plate heading up the hill. The BMW, in a light blue colour, had the private plate, CRU151N, forced me to look forward to the summer. Within a few months, the sunroof will be open, the pure pop and 1980s classics will be blasted out of the stereo, even if I am sitting in my car on the drive.

Now we come to the disappointment of the weekend, the low point of the day of rest. Coming home, in time to sort myself out, put on my Arsenal home shirt and got a comfortable seat on the sofa. My family had all gone out by the first half came to life. Perhaps for the wrong reasons, but with a big Champions League game on the horizon, Arsene was right to rest some key players and put out a B team. Just a shame we ended up with a draw and ten men (which could have been worse) Yet another Arsenal blog, considers the criticisms from the cup tie. The less said about giving your opponents the chance to get back into the game, the better. Thankfully a replay is the only result but a game, in reality, which we could do without playing.

During the course of what became a quite tedious second half, I received a text message from my long time college friend, Pav. Also know on the virtual airwaves as DJ Breezy. We had started making more regularly contact via MSN at work, although I tend to the busy of the two of us! ;) We had agreed that we should meet up soon. Little did I know that time would be sooner rather than later. In Windsor at the time, he explained that on his drive back down to Reading, he would pop down and see me. Pleasantly surprised, I anticipated his arrival, to Wycombe. This would be the first time in almost six years that he would be coming to my house. Pavneet, as he is called officially, has been my friend since our time at Henley College, studying A Level Business Studies in the same class. Over the course of our friendship, particularly during the early days, we discovered that we had a sixth sense. Both banking with the same bank, shared appreciation for the Star Wars saga and even love for those cute Nokia mobiles. Which began when both had the classic 6210. I would describe Pav, as the ideal friend, in a sense, one of the "boys". Not only is into most of the technical things I enjoy, but he has a great passion from cars. He has come along way, since that day in the hot summer, with the July son beating down. Pav had just passed his driving test and we were off to see the advanced previews on the beginning of an epic struggle of Good versus Evil. As you will all be aware, your first car is rarely the big dream you had hoped it to be. Though, you let that afterthought slip, on the pure basis that you are legally behind the wheels of an automobile. I was in of all possible vehicles, a white, aging Proton. How times have changed, that car has gone and my friend's tastes have changed, just slightly.

Ever since his Dad leased a BMW Compact 3 series, in the second year of college, Pav has long been associated with driving the classy cars from the German manufacturer. I can recall some great stories of driving around Reading town centre, in his blue, three door, hot hatch (more of a cruiser really). Some episodes do come to mind, but I do not want to get him into any trouble with the long arm of the law. So, I'll save them for another time. Low and behold, after owning a quality motor for a few months, Pav is already eyeing up his next purchase. Meanwhile, current, chipped and supped up wheels, BMW 325, are available on eBay. On Saturday, when he arrived, it was getting dark, so I decided it was best to have a quick drive around Wycombe, to see how what this baby could do! Getting to a clear street, Pav put his foot to the floor, the few pedestrians, suddenly turned their heads in our direction, curious at the heavy engine noise heading their direction. Jolted back into my seat, I was shocked at the power and acceleration of this machine. Pav is by no means a boy racer, but he does have his own style and it is always an experience with him behind the wheel. Then for the shocking news headline, his next car is going to be an M3.

Just a quick thank you to Sippy for upgrading my guest book to version two. New features include timestamp for each posting, and IP logging. Spammer beware, your game is up. :D Talking of Mr. Bandali, his website and return to blogging should be online very soon. Don't believe everything I say, I've been hyping this guy up for the past two years. Is this the moment, I will actually be proved wrong?

Went to see Nav over in Eailing on Saturday night. He had come down from Leicester to see his sister and I thought it best to go and see him. Not sure when the next opportunity will come around. We were hoping to go catch a movie down the local multiplex, there was nothing worth watching on. The option to go for a meal came about, but we could not make up our minds. Pretti was busy, having already made plans to see her friends. So my ex-house mate just headed into the town centre (is that would it is really called?) for a few drinks, nothing major and then headed back to his sister's flat just on the outskirts of the A40. A new addition had been since my last visit back in October and the owner was giving me a quick demonstration on the benefits of being able to record movies, fast forward adverts and even pause live TV. The technology is moving on leaps and bounds, particularly the ability to record to programs simultaneously (although you have to be watching one of them, or in our case, flipping between). The anthem for the weekend was based on a quick snippet of a video I had seen on Q. Def Leppard, coming into the years after being at the peak of their powers, but still to have their biggest and most popular hit. The song was new to me, but the computer graphics, although make Money For Nothing by Dire Straits, look quite ancient. Even if when discovering it was 1992, you wonder why the video is not better, particular as this was the year, the machine returned, with devastating affect. Then, I found the lyrics and discovered the meaning behind them, the teenage antics of Bart Simpson. A great, radio friendly, rock song, just a shame I was so busy this weekend, I never got the chance to burn it onto CD. Maybe next weekend, when I have a chance. How does it compare to the classics? Well, Photograph and Pour Some Sugar On Me, have the edge, in terms of style, sound and lyrical composition. Don't get me wrong, this is vintage Def Leppard, but it just shame that they have lost that special magic, that defined them in the 1980s. More coal in the fire to stoke my argument, the best era for us all, is long behind us.

Friday 18th February 2005

You should never underestimate the power of local radio. Before I head into work and am just driving the local roads close to my home, I always listen to Mix 107. I had been feeling down the night before, for various reasons, none which need to see the light of day, on here. Yet, Thursday morning, bought with it a sense of reality home to me, in the form of a song. The presenter, in his cute, calm voice for the Breakfast Show, announced that music from Phil Collins would air next, after these messages. I was expected something completely different, but instead the disc jockey had selected the cover of the Supreme's classic from September 1966. Reaching number three in the UK charts, I am not sure if the Motown trio had been renamed as Diana Ross & The Supreme's. Collin's version, was more successful topping the UK charts in December 1982. Not sure why, because the original usual does always fare better. Maybe it was the video, which featured Phil playing the role of all members of his 'imaginary' band. The song was just what the doctor ordered. After several shocks, surprises during the week, I was slowly coming around to the realisation that life is actually, beyond the surface working out. While having my breakfast, yesterday morning, I had been thinking of the ideal song to reflect my mood and more importantly circumstances. In the end I opted for Waiting For Her by a-ha from their 1991 album, East of the Sun, West of the Moon. Fans of Keane, will like this track, so take a listen and don't be fooled into judging a song by the introduction.

I have been a fan of Eastenders for the past few years and have converted my parents into regular viewers too. (My Mum particularly enjoys the twists, the turns and strange stance on the real world). Trying to put together a history of my viewing of the BBC soap is difficult. My life affair with soaps did not really start until quite a late age, around sixteen, but if I ever missed an episode it was not a major issue. Tending to dip in and out at my leisure, simply there were more important things going on in my life. Towards the middle of college, I caught the bug and started watching religiously with die hard conviction. My routine worked around the scheduling so, I rarely missed an installment and if need be always had the solace of the Sunday afternoon omnibus. This was the days before BBC Three. Then in mid September 2000, I started University and my lifestyle changed beyond recognition. Having taken the decision to bring my television with me to halls, it was something I soon regretted and within a few weeks, it was taken back home. I neither had the space for it or the inclination to move around all the furniture to watch a few hours of tedious television in the evening, to then find myself boxed into my bed in the morning. Thankfully, my flat mates both had televisions so I would catch the odd episode, which over time become more regular viewing. Then the habit started again, and the craving stuck. So now, I have become a regularly watcher of the show. When people ask me what I watch on television, I surprise many by saying something as follows: Eastenders religiously, football and a bit of news come current affairs.

The lengths to which, I will go to watch my beloved soap opera? During my placement, I was involved in presenting an evening seminar at a local agriculture centre and park. The talks went on past 8pm, meaning I had already missed the first broadcast from Walford. My colleagues then insisted I remained for food, so I tried to limit myself to modest portions from the buffet. Sitting on my own, while I ate, I kept my distance from the heated discussion taking place at the other end of the foyer. Then, I was invited across to the table of one of the lawyers and decided that after the idle chitchat, to make my exit, it was drawing close to 9pm. The sun was setting, in the distance and I knew I needed a miracle to get home for 10pm. The journey was just over 60 miles and would take me over an hour, even with the most favourable of traffic conditions. Taking into account that this journey takes into the M1, M25 and then M40, all busy motorways, regardless of the time of day or night. This was a mission, and would I make the challenge and meet my strict deadline. I drove like a man obsessed listening to dance music. (Although I cannot confirm this, until I retrieve the exact date of the even t from my placement archive CD) The average speed must have been 90 mph, dedicated to the fast lane, all the way to the M25 junction. Here, I just continued my erratic speed, towards to my home county of Buckinghamshire. Facing a dilemma, I needed to make a choice, do I take the exit at Junction 18, taking the A404, through Amersham and down into High Wycombe, added valuable time to my journey, but save myself from getting stuck in a major traffic jam, further down on the M25 or even M40. Looking at the time, I knew I did not have the beauty to make that choice, so instead I battled on with the motorway route. Hoping that once I reached the homeward bound stretch of my journey, the traffic would be lighter, and have the comfort of a fourth lane. To cut this story short, before I lose yet another reader (just as Eastenders have been losing viewers, recently.) I broke numerous traffic violations in order to reach my destination, in time to catch the first repeat of Eastenders. Although, if I had been stopped by a member of the Thames Valley Police traffic section, my excuse would not have washed. Look, I was busy on Sunday and would not be able to catch up on the final chase to catch the week's action from Albert Square. I hope someone from the Beeb reads this and sees the level of devotion to a soap, which the rest of the country have given up on. Although I doubt they would condone my breach of speed limits. This swiftly brings us onto tonight's episode of Eastenders. It had been built up gradually over the week, with trails including Zoe Slater, Sam Mitchell and then Chrissy Watts (shown individually and then "combined"). Looking forward to the event so much, I forgot completely about it until I got into the car to drive home this evening. It has been a long week, believe me. High expectations are difficult to manage, but I avoid (as I have stayed throughout my blog) any insight into the future of soaps. I just do not want to know what happens, tomorrow next week or next Easter. It was impossible not to know the outcome of tonight's episode, but the way in which the final blow would be delivered (and by whom) was more important that the crime itself. Overall a highly entertaining episode, worthy of the extra thirty minutes of airtime. The comic elements bought strange relief to the impending doom, to one (or is that two) characters? Just check out Ian Beale racking up some serious air guitar in the Queen Vic public house. Then there was the drunken, student antics of Mark Flower, as he bared (almost all) in front of his shocked mother Pauline. Fantastic. There was also subtle hints, which only the more in tune of you would have noted. As Andy Hunter and his 'lerch' Ed headed on the motorway in the Mercedes, the song playing on the radio was Chris Rea - Road to Hell. Diamond Geezer has been running his own personal tribute as a real Eastender. Someone over at the Guardian, appears to agree with me. :) Many of the scenes, with the three women scorned, showed them almost like the three witches from Shakespeare's Macbeth. Note the use of the fire, in place of a cauldron. Friday night episodes have always tended to be light hearded but the suspence of how Dennis would be taken out was too much, even for me. To survive once was an act of God, but no one beats death twice (or do they?) The idea of a contract killer, coming along did seem far fetched even for East End London, yet the mafia inspired showmanship, is still event to this day. Although, a stroke of genius to take out another hated villian, in such a geniune way. Just as Johnny Allen said, "I must really have a converstation with that man." Conversation over. Now the cover up begins.

Tuesday 15th February 2005

My movie watching over the past few months, and retrospectively the past few years has been limited. Subsequently I have a stack of DVD's beside the television that remain untouched, the weekly Saturday night Premiere on Sky Movies goes unwatched. Even a magical animated series from my childhood has failed to see the light of day, even though the discs have been in my prosecution for over a year. I noted in May last year that I would try and watch an episode a week, once I started working. To date, I have never had the opportunity to sit down and catch any of the episodes, apart from the first one, which I watched when I first received the discs in December 2003. Not sure exactly when or how I will be able to make time for all this entertainment backlog. On Sunday night, I started as I meant to go on, and caught on up all those movies I had missed.

Having seen all the trails for the recently released, Oceans Twelve I had the ideal opportunity to watch the first film, on ITV on Sunday evening. An ideal opportunity to give the computer a rest for the first time in eight days. As the movie started to get going, I realised how much I enjoy movies with a big plan, and finding out if they can pull off the job. With the all star cast, various twists and turns, it makes for a watchable few hours of television. The big names were on form, although I admire Don Cheadle acting ability, even I was pushed to believe him as a cockney Englishman. Clooney and Bitt suited their roles, and you can understand why many women melt that the feet of these Hollywood stars. Good looks aside, they come across with a aura of class, sophistication all with an air of subtly. Being smooth is an art, you have to have the confidence to carry it off, but also the level mind to be able to admit gracious defeat, with a smile. Sometimes, I wish I was more like that. Rather not give to much away but the film is well worth watching if you have not seen it already. I am planning to go catch the sequel at the cinema this weekend, if I get the chance. Some of my friends have said that I will be disappointed, I'll wait and see.

One of the reasons I find blogging so appealing is the ability to record, or rather take snapshots from any given moment in my life. Here, I give a valid case in point. My last entry from January, last year proves to be a very interesting read. Mainly because I mention one of my favourite films from the 1980s. Five in there services as a public broadcaster to all us children of the Eighties decided to screen once again the family adventure classic, that is the Goonies. Last time around, I missed the crucial start of the movie, when the seeds of adventure are first sown for our motley crew. So on Sunday evening, I made a conscious decision to sit down to watch at 6pm. Some of you may have noted my MSN screen name publicly proclaim that I was taking a trip down memory lane. Strange how a film from a certain time in your life can still hold a sense of innocence, magic and fun. Maybe because we can relate to the individual characters so well, even now in our mid twenties. Of course, Data was my favourite, for his wacky inventions. Just explain to me how you go from the Goonies, and then to one of the biggest epic trilogies of all time? Such a shame Sean has aged in the way least flattering to the figure.

With the popularity of my site growing steadily on a monthly basis, I have to be careful of many of the things I say. That is not to force a censor upon myself. The lawyers could be reading what I write, so I have to do my best to distance myself from anything that could be considered illegal or at a bear minimum a infringement of the law. It was with great interest I read the following article to get Napster for free! After looking at the daily links on the Guardian Newsblog. Working in technology means that a certain saying always rings true, 'where there's a will, there's always a way'. The pace at which products and services move on, mean that not only do always have something fantastic to look forward to, there are a band of dedicated followers, whom have made it their life mission to crack, copy, unprotect and rip any system that stands in their way. The foolish illusion that the big corporations find themselves in is this. They believe they can manufacturer a system that is unbreakable. Just as they can try to protect their profits, there are another group dedicated if only in the purpose of research to prove that every structure is pregnable, we all have an Achilles Heel.

I know when I plan, rarely do things work out as I hoped but if the final end result is what I longed for, does the method really matter? A means to an ends? Who knows, but I always thought if your heart is in the right place, 99% of the work has already been done. the waiting game may be over, but the next stage is tougher still. Do I have the ambitious dedication to see this through to the finish line? Time will tell, but if the truth be known, I am going with instinct at times running on pure adrenalin. As much as I wish to recite the lyrics from 'Drowning' by the Backstreet Boys I will resist, for there is much more going on here, than meets the eye.

Friday 11th February 2005

As I drove home, I noticed a thick fog had descended across the whole leafy surrounds of Berkshire. As I headed onto the by-pass, the truly density of the fog became apparent as I could only see about 150 yards ahead. The weather conditions resulted in a greater build up of traffic, so even though I had left the office promptly at 4.30pm, I did not get home until just after 5pm. Working the early shift, although appeals with the benefit of leaving the office an full hour and a half earlier than normal, even I appear to lose the benefit of my early start. Think I will opt for the late shift in future and be more reluctant to accept a change in working hours. I hate to give the impression that I work in factory, in some rota system, but it must sound this way. I do indeed work in an office, but the support line has to be covered for those hours. The week came to an end, just as it at started, if only by a reflection in the weather. The week was long, busy and at time hectic, although I must admit I enjoy working somewhere, where the days flash by so quickly. I know I should not be thinking about it already but next week is going to be even more of a struggle.

Can you live without broadband? An article on BBC News Online tempted me with the concept of bandwidth guilt. I had my broadband installed in August 2002, detailed briefly on my web site, just as I was beginning to start what has now become this blog. After the initial honeymoon period when I went mad, downloading whatever I could get my hands on, the most significant benefit has been longer tying up the phone line. I can remember, back in 1999, coming back from work on a Saturday afternoon, and by 2.30pm being dialed up on my 56k modem to download three mp3s from the then illegal Napster. That was the total number of tracks I could download in the two hour session. Freeserve had a timeout period, so you had to redial to connect up again. At the time, my family PC was so low spec that I was unable to play mp3 files. The lack of removable media, meant I had to do the following. Download the mp3 file, then compress it to a zip. Then use PKZIP from the command line to span this across six sometimes eight floppy disks. These would then be taken upstairs into my room, to my personal computer (which I am still on at the moment) to extract and then finally listen to the solemn audio track. Believe me that was a hell of a struggle, but a wonderful moment opening up WinAmp and clicking on play.

The Internet, for me now has become a drug. The fact that I have broadband, and therefore an 'always on connection', means I have become dependent (perhaps too much) on having the world wide web, on my fingertips any time, day or night. I seriously do get withdrawal symptoms if I cannot go online everyday. By being online, I mean using my own personal computer to access the net, check e-mail and read all those blogs, I enjoy. Although I have the ability to do this at work, I am only truly comfortable surfing to my heart's content at home. Not sure of why, but it must be the same feel of drinking tea from your own mug, or drifting off to sleep in your own bed. As I write, I am racking my brains trying to think of the last time I went several days without using my computer or the net. Unfortunately, I cannot think of time, but am aware that even two days consecutively without being 'plugged in' means I find myself losing some sense of reality (even if only the fact I have not checked my e-mail or logged into MSN Messenger).

The other big news this week was more hype than anything else. Most of us were aware that it was inevitable, in time and knowing that it was a situation that needed to be resolved. Diamond Geezer does well to summarize the reality of what will be just another marriage between a middle aged couple. As usual the subject of the Royal Family comes along, do we really need a monarchy? Some may have a good argument for a Republic. I am a strong believer that tradition, ceremony and our past are very important and should never be just abandoned. What makes Great Britain, such a unique country, is our culture, ever diverse and our Royal Family, which are, slowly but surely moving with the times. Just the thought of having a elected President as our Head of State makes me shudder. Leave that sort of position to the Americans and Europeans. They wallow in that world of self importance, which we, the British people, are often so cynical about. The Windsor's are here to stay, for the time being at least and I have no desire to replace them in the vain that all "men are created equal". This is not the case, some people are born lucky, some people make their own luck, others just make the most of their lives and get on with it.

Tuesday 8th February 2005

Are you a morning person? To confess, I am not and never really have been. I did not but my sister watched the programme last Wednesday on how to Sleep better. Although I do not have major problems sleeping now, I used in the past. Yet, the moment I started working, aged sixteen, the tiredness of the physical work, meant I would get into bed and be off like a light. In the past, it would take me up to an hour before I drifted off. In the morning, it takes me a while to get up, and I have been known to be a bit moody, or worse for wear. By the time I've had breakfast and showered, I do feel better and ready to take on the day. It may have been just another Monday, but I was looking forward to the drive to work, even if only to listen to the album I had created over the weekend. The song may have been Sunrise, but the weather outside did little to reflect the light of day. A think smog had over come the surrounding area, and the prospect of a busy drive to work, was become clear in my mind. I headed onto the by-pass, switching on my stereo from local radio to compact disc and enjoyed various tracks, during the small build up traffic at the main roundabout. As I took my exited and headed into the countryside of Berkshire, I noticed how dense the fog really had become, even at this quite late time in the morning. I could see only hundred yards ahead of me, so was driving with less haste than normal, knowing I would reach the office in good time. As I came up to the final road, I looked in my rear view mirror, to see fog and ahead fog. Then a moment, that seemed to have been conjured up in the mind of some highly paid marketing executive. A Porsche Carrera 996 cruised through the thick mist and dazzled me, with the headlights on full beam. The driver quickly responded by dimming his light, but by the time he had done this, he was so far down the road, he had to put them back on again. As I entered the office, I pondered the appeal of working in such an exclusive and secluded location. A countryside setting brings affluence. They usually drive the cars, we spent most of lives dreaming about.

This brings me swiftly onto the subject of car adverts. It is broadcast every Christmas, part of annual custom, like the Queen's Speech. Yet, a German car manufacturer have decided to do the unthinkable. Maybe not the greatest musical of all time, but the most famous scene of all time. Parodied by the comic genius partnership of Morecombe & Wise and even the martial arts action star, in the watchable Shanghai Knights. All those mimics I can forgive, because they are special in the sense the context is completely different. Yet, on Sunday night, I have to watch this criminal act. If you have not seen it, you have been saved. How could the Gene Kelly foundation allow themselves to sell out in the name of such stupidity. Will this really sell more Golf GTI's? It is no secret that my opinion is that the hot hatch is far too overrated but does that give them just to resurrect a cinematic icon? VW are not the first, several years ago Ford were guilty of bringing back movie legend, Steve McQueen for the now discontinued, Puma. Looks like they are putting themselves in the dock once again for the new Mustang. Although, I must admit the application of Steve was much more subtle and suitable, it did not really work. That can be forgiven. Getting Kelly to break dance the steps to an all time classic, is just unacceptable. Some marketing company was paid millions to do this, most of which most have gone in rights to get Gene's face computerized onto the dancers. What a waste. Would have been easier to get me to flog a few of these beasts from my driveway. That is saying much, I have so little power of persuasion, I would have difficult selling ice to an eskimo. :)

Brit's 25 on Thursday. I always remember them taking place on a Monday night and then been shown, as live on the following evening. Should be interesting and look forward to the live rendition of "I Don't Like Mondays!".

Sunday 6th February 2005

With the disappointment of Tuesday evening long behind them, Arsenal bounced back in great fashion, with a almost showcase performance against Aston Villa. The first half was great, with flowing one touch football we have become accustomed to see from the Gooners. The one player, back after long injury layoff, showed his desire, with a controlled game. Edu even picked an assistant for the first goal, so although he wants to move to Spain, I have the utmost respect for him staying and fighting for his place in the middle of the park, even if it only for the remainder of the season. The second half, saw the home side wake up and come to life in terms of attacking play, although we were steady at the back, with Lenhmann returning for the first Premiership game since defeat at Anfield. Just hope we can continue this has a team, and watch Manchester and Chelsea stumble in the next few games. Or is that just the most wishful of wishful thinking?

Once in a while, a song comes along that feels as if it was written for you personally. Do you ever have this feeling? I expect that as I mention it with such regularity, it must be common place with the rest of you out there. The case in point, is the feeling I mentioned on in my last entry. Losing control and hoping for the best. Let me start at the beginning. I am not a clubbing person, but do enjoy listening to radio friendly dance music (if such a genre does exist). By radio friendly, I mean something, strong but not over empowering tempo, direct vocals and original musical arrangement. Although if it is all artificially generated. My sister, Samantha tends to have her eye (or rather ears) more closely trained on the contemporary music scene. Therefore is constantly feeding me the latest tune I should be listened to. Most of the time I ignore this advice, occasionally she does come up with a chestnut. A case in point is Angel City, featuring the vocal talent of one Lara McEllen. The group have had several songs in the charts over the past few years, including, Touch Me, Love Me Right and more recently Do You Know? There latest offering is in my humble opinion their best. All of their material appears to be about discovering true love for yourself. Yet, somehow this is the most upbeat, positive and well balanced of the four singles released. Maybe the title, Sunrise gives it all away? Lara's voice is distinctive and magically tuned, perfect for the demands of dance come trance music. The songs tend to bring out the best in quality of her vocals, just as the videos make the most of her physical aesthetics :P. A blog which tends to keep up with the latest happenings in this particular genre of music is by Richii. Based in New York, he has not updated for several months, strange when the tagline is "Always Fresh, Always Chewy" but the Music section is well worth a browse and make sure you watch a few of those music videos too.

Nav was online yesterday for a while, but problems with his old school, 56k dial-up connection meant he could not stay on for long. He told me the track he had been listening to on his way from Leicester to his hometown in Lincolnshire, and it brought back some flooding memories. Huey Lewis & The News are most famous for their song from Back To The Future. I am not doubting that "The Power Of Love" is not a great rock song, it is fantastic. What many people forget is that the bad also wrote a more direct track for the original soundtrack. Called, "Back In Time", it references Marty and his need to get back to 1985. The melody is instantly recognisable,as the theme for the later animated series, screened in the early 1990s. Plus the ripping guitar solo in the middle, is fantastic, particular as my when, as my friend described, you are driving or perhaps speeding along country roads. (The author of T3G:2 does not condone any form of irresponsible driving.)

Yesterday, I had also been speaking to my friend, Hussein discussing the manly of all topics. Wheels. I had kept this secret from him for some time and finally admitted to my membership to the DeLorean Owners Club. It was at that point, he mentioned there was one parked down his road. Shocked and bemused, but not wanting to question his integrity, I believed him. I only wish he had told me back in August, so I could have sneaked a quick peek, when I came over for my XBox modifications. Anyway, to my surprise, I received the following e-mail from Hussein, this afternoon with some hard evidence. With a signature, only the man with everything could ever have, "Hussein-on-the-Treo". Treo refers to his Smart Phone, to those of you not in the know.

How strange does that look? A automobile, manufactured over twenty years ago, over in Belfast, finds a home in suburban West London. Now, if only I could turn on the flux capacitor and find enough road to get up to 88!

Talk To Me What Are You Doing, What Are You Thinking Right Now?
Set Me Free, I'm Just A Prisoner To You, Time Goes By, I'm Still Waiting Forever & A Day Now,
I Thought I Saw You Yesterday, I Thought Those Words I Heard You Say,
When I Look Into The Sunrise, Sunlight Melts My Fears Away,
When You Living This Feeling, Don't Ever Let It Go,
When I Look At The Skylight, It Feels Right,
I Want It On My Mind, I Set You Free, I Set You Free, I Set You Free.

Friday 4th February 2005

Overcome by strange alien feelings over the past few days. Unable to explain myself. In essence, I have been waiting for the day to come only to watch it disappear away into the night, as I drive home. At work, I have been battling on, learning and proving myself. The honeymoon period may well and truly over but then is this not the time the real work begins?

The perfect soundtrack to resolve my Wednesday morning blues, should have been Ultra. Who are they, I hear you cry? Well for a change, I have been the catalyst for bringing you, past, present and even future from the only boy band, to hold Masters degrees and play their own instruments (so they claimed in 1998!). For the first time in several weeks, I went upstairs to my sister and she had made little attempt to conceal her up criminal act of theft. By her television was the Mini Disc. Dated technology by many but it does still sound cool and so fresh! Quickly I took it back and rushed downstairs to listen to it on my Aiwa stereo. Cheesy, but nevertheless uplifting music, to bring a smile to your face, realising that everything will be just fine. Not sure why my sister had my Ultra MD, as she has the album on compact disc, which was a present from her beloved older brother back in Christmas, 1999.

Have you ever felt you wish you had the power to do much more. I hate not being in control of a situation, regardless of the circumstances. Long term readers will be aware of my tendency to be a control freak! The words ringing around in my head, tell me I've done my best, the rest is left in the lap of the Gods. Just like some are waiting for Michael, I am waiting for the truth.

Wednesday 2nd February 2005

As I left the house this morning, I was in the need of some music to cheer me up. Although the desire to listen to Michael was still there, I needed something more uplifting and suited to the morning cruise to the office. Searching my limited and quite pathetic looking album collection, there was nothing that came to mind at first glance. In comparison to my world famous, MP3 collection this was a painful decision. In the end, I opted for "Life is a Flower" by the Swedish super group, Ace of Base. Listening to it once, one line in the chorus kept me going through a hectic morning and steady afternoon on the support desk. Thankfully the person to benefit most from the events of last night, was not in the office today. Just putting off the evitable shame that comes hand in hand with a defeat at home, to your arch title rival. I am beginning to hate Chelsea fans with more hatred than those from the white side of North London.

Having had the time to consider the game, looks like yet again, Arse Blog comes back with the rational view from the fans. Cliche ridden I know, but it was a game of two halves and we just decided not to turn up for the remaining forty-five, thinking the game was already in the bag. So, the thoughts of a fan, published on the site, tell us that the title race is well and truly over. May, in my eyes, is still a long long way away. Who knows what the next day will bring? Who knows if the next kick of the ball, will bring victory or failure?

Life is a flower
So precious in your hand
Carry on smiling
And the world will smile with you

Tuesday 1st February 2005

Defeat. Of all the human emotions we must feel, taste and wallow in, this has to be worst. Losing face against your fiercest rival, then having to face not just defeat on the pitch, but the days, even months of ridicule in the media. That is why, if such an event does occur, I avoid all newspaper headlines, talk radio, news websites and even some television shows. This is not to shut myself away from the reality, or the criticism, (be it fair or otherwise unjustified). I strongly believe there is a time for talk, hype and discussion, but there should be a limit. The moment the players cross the white line, it is just eleven mere mortals against another eleven mere mortals. Expect, you and me both know it is much more important that. Heroes are born within a split second, and villains brought to book. This game had everything, expect the right final result. Am I a sore loser? When we lost to Manchester United, in October, there was little discussion even jeering in my work place. Sure we had football fans, pure football fans in fact (season ticket holder at West Ham) but due to the very nature of my job , it meant I did not have daily banter that must occur in every other offices. Something I missed, from my school days. At college, as everyone grew slightly more mature, the football talk only ever took place on the weekend. While I think of it, there was a classic story, from when my love for football had only just started. England was enjoying the lovely summer, with football coming home. In our final group match, we played Holland, one of the pre-tournament favourites. Chris Brian, summaries the feeling in a few lines of a result that was to send shock waves across the football world. A shame that England were unable to deliver the final product. Although I digress, the victory was so sweet. I remember my class mate, Kevin arriving into our classroom, HU7 in complete silence. All eyes turned to him, as we quickly saw both his hands held out. On his right all four fingers were up, and on the left, a solitary single finger. Mouthing the score, with a gleam in his eye, he rushed towards Richard and shouted out the score. Richard had the unfortunate luck of Dutch heredity and had been supporting the Orange country throughout the first few weeks of the tournament. How he must have regretted this decision. He was ridiculed, mocked and we all laughed. At fourteen years old, (or there abouts) this must have been highly demoralizing. Yet, like a sport he took defeat on the chin, knowing that this was part and parcel of the game. Some days you win, some days you lose, that is the roller coaster ride of football.

So tomorrow morning, like my classmate Richard, nine years ago, I face the prospect of many fellow football enjoying the delight of watching Arsenal lose. How will I take it? Who knows? At these times, when defeat has again appeared as kryptonite to these supermen as human beings, my Dad turns to me. He gives me the stand line, which is little comfort. "It's only a game, son...". True fans, whom have felt the full spectrum of emotion over the past ninety minutes will beg to differ. It is much more important than that.

Friday 28th January 2005

Only given a limited theatrical release, last summer, Fahrenheit 9/11 was shown on Channel4. Perhaps as a documentary, it is exempt from the standard fours year we normally have to wait for a network television premiere. I knew nothing about the Michael Moore attack on the Bush administration, until my friend Nav, mentioned it during my lunch hour, while chatting on MSN Messenger. My friend was planning his whole evening around the event, to be screen at 9pm. Although I tend to shy away from making any strong political statements on my blog, my view has been quite clear since the events of September 11th, 2001. Now more commonly referred to in the calendar format used across the pond, 9/11.

My overall response was an extensively researched documentary, with Moore making several significant links between the Bush family, oil and the Saudis. This was the basis for the first part of the footage, which was used in an unique way. Footage unseen by the public, as George W. Bush and other big movers within the US administration, as they are prepared to go live broadcasts. The Presidents mannerisms are extremely revealing, taking into consideration the news he is about to break to the world, the invasion has begun. To follow this up, Michael Moore commentary just to guide you through a variety of arguments and points of coincidence that appear intrigued when put together with all the other evidence Moore has gathered. Spliced in between are interviews, live footage from both the terror attacks, the front line in Baghdad, and even harrowing hospital footage. Against, this there was also some lighter material, thrown in for comic relief, with Bush, Blair, Cheney and other being the Magnificent Seven. The focus was controlled, with much of the argument based on Bush's inaction prior to the events in downtown Manhattan. If this is the introduction to the temperature rising, the rest of the film, which is quite long winded takes several avenues. In the most part, all of these arguments work, but towards the end it becomes very emotive, which is fine. The shame is that this argument is not taken further. We meet Lilly, who has two children in the US Army. Then, later in the conflict we meet, her surrounded by her extended family to explain that one of her sons has been lost. In a moving piece, which shows the great pride the mother held for her son, she reads his final letter. I was very moved by this piece and near to tears myself. In the next scene, we see Lilly heading to the White House to face her demons. She comes up against a local lady, in her late 30s wearing, dark glasses and red top. Even though Lilly, is clearly distressed and in tears at this time, this woman says to her, "Your son wasn't the only one!". In a fist of rage, Lilly lashes out, with a fiery, "My son.. died!" and decides to walk away from the fight. She sums up her feelings by saying, "This is the type of stupid ignorant people I have to deal with.." Poignantly, one woman had been able to place into the words the whole reason for this documentary. To shed light to the reality of war, the reality of greater powers having an agenda. How greed and oil can play an important part in politics. I was disappointed that the ending was on such an awkward, almost unclear ground with the emotions running so high. Opening my eyes to various aspects which I only had limited knowledge of before. I do agree with that fact that the lower grades of society are the first to sacrifice themselves in the name of freedom. While between only one and three senators actually have children serving with the armed forces. My views have not changed, but I am less sympathetic with those who are less informed about both sides of the argument. Well worth viewing if you want to find out more about this war, or should I say, liberation?

There are many critical of this sensational attempt at trying to change the outcome of a US election. While Moore is working on a sequel, other filmmakers are plotting their own response to the director, calling him unpatriotic. Strange how one film can divide a nation in this way. Particular when there are always going to be doubters and even those willing to delve deep into your past and permanent record.

Looks like the first month of 2005 has slowly disappeared over the horizon and February will be soon upon us. Time is flying by and I think the fact I have a busy job is the main culprit. Everything is going well, and I'm trying my best to settle into a routine. I know this will come about in due course, but I really need to get out of this habit of being a lazy slob. To date, I have rarely exercised and although am by no means obese, that is no excuse for not being healthy. I did join a gym, three years ago, this month. My plan was to get into a casual routine during the second semester at University and then build up to a more regimented schedule. Did this happen? Unfortunately the reality of my placement, mean I was driving up to 4 hours a day, totaling some 600 miles a week. There was no time to fit in a gym programme. Swiftly in September, I cancelled my membership, with my attendance having swindled down to a solemn weekly visit to my Uxbridge gym on a Sunday morning. Now that I am working more closer to home, I think it is an ideal time to consider getting back onto the running machine and being more conscience of what I eat. Making the statement on my website, makes it that more important and that more real. I cannot shy away from the fact that I have a target to achieve. My housemates, won't worry about me shying away from my responsibilities. I am sure certain people out there will be quick to pick up when I fail to meet the my aims. This is not a late new year resolution, this is just a casual attempt to clean up my act. (Which observers would say is hardly appalling!)

My website needs some minor updates, need to get some recent photographs online, update the links page and also create an index of all the songs which have been referenced (by lyrics only) at the end of my blog postings. Plenty to keep me busy plus writing original material for my work blog. When will I find the time for my XBox, with all those new titles, and catch up with the latest from the 4th round of the FA Cup.

Tuesday 25th January 2005

Can you believe that exactly a month ago, it was Christmas Day? The thought alone makes me shudder, looking back, it seems much more time as based, than the thirty one days, my diary clearly shows. Thankfully it was yesterday, to be precisely calculated as the worse day of the year, which is understandable given the circumstances. Diamond Geezer sums up the feeling of an entire nation, with a list of tasks that seem to take forever. Having said all of that, yesterday was not too bad and the time flew by quite quickly, with very just the odd ring of the telephone. So, how was your day? Hussein came up with the wisdom of the day, which should keep us drudging on, if only for a few more weeks. "But hey, that means every day is going to be statistically better than this one!" You can rely on our resident superhero to always look upon the positive. Funny how that those in the southern hemisphere, report with joyfulness our plight. Although I have a strict policy not to view personal blogs during the work day (even in my lunch break) I do try to get my daily dosage of online news. Although no one can doubt the resource might of the Beeb, I need some more selective reporting on the crucial news of the day. For this I turn to the Guardian and their fabulous News section. Written in the form of a web log, each weekday they bring a roundup of the articles to be published online, through the various sections of the paper, at around 11am. This preview is followed by news bites later in the afternoon, with all the detail you need to read up on the subject at hand. The pick of the day is usually well worth a visit and a image, is also used to summary the main event of the day, or the week. To my surprise, the link Chin's Happy Moments was able to take my thoughts away from the busy office, just for a split second and I realised, just as I had been trying to pay more attention to the finer things of life yesterday afternoon. Happiness is all about the wonderful things, the every day things, the things that mean so much to you, and just you.

Great to see Arsenal back on form, if not quite the finely tuned engine, we have all come to expect. Hopefully we can be firing on all cylinders by the time we meet Fergie's men at Highbury next month. Some great chances did go begging, even if more to the great performance of Shay Given. If the feud has finally come to the end, time to let the football do the talking. Read the latest at Arse Blog , as he was lucky enough to be at the match with the Toon. Really need to get myself down to North London for a game, particularly Champions League, which I am well informed have the best atmosphere. My long term aim, is to beg steal, even borrow for the final game on the North Bank before the big move. Then, it will be how to swindle my way onto the waiting list for a season ticket If you have any advice that may aid my plans to move from a armchair supporter in the pocket of Rupert Murdoch to part of the North Bank faithful.

Sunday 23rd January 2005

Spent yesterday evening filing. Over the past few months, having gathered a mountain of various paperwork and mail, it was time for a spring clean. Not sure about you, but I am notorious for holding on to any old piece of paper, sometimes purely for nothing more than sentimental reasons. Does finding it difficult to throw things away, make me a hoarder? Although I doubt my conditions seeks professional medical advice. My personal explanation is that I fear there will come a day, that I will really need documentary proof that I attended the Holland versus Switzerland game during Euro '96. Tickets to the group match held at Villa Park, which I won, via a HSBC competition. For this reason, I hold on to things, which really I should have thrown away years ago. Too many times in the past, I have summed up the courage to throw something out, against my better judgment only to discover a few months later, the perfect reason for having said information or apparatus. Sending me into a mystery universe that I should save everything because you never know when it might come in useful. Useful is such a subjective word. Just as the saying goes, one man's junk is another man's treasure. How anyone can see gold buried

A tidy up does you good and is in many ways, therapeutic. Looks like I am not the only one to hold such a view. Out of all the chaos, you bring some sense of order. The fact that you have done it yourself, makes it that much sweeter. Perhaps more regular applicants of elbow grease may actually help me become a healthy person, inside of my current status of lazy slob.

Can you plan the perfect day? No, it just happens. Events, people and circumstances come together in a moment which sticks in your mind. The soundtrack of course is very important, and that too triggers the mind to remember these special memories, which we hold so dear. Driving to the Midlands yesterday afternoon, I had the time to reflect on the quiet M40, the importance of what appear insignificant events, although on merit are spectacular. When was the last time you actually, stopped and considered the grand star in the sky, as it rises in the morning. Or the bright shining white light, high up in the night sky? Busy life. Stuck in our busy lives, we rarely get the chance to stop, look up in awe and the wonderful beauty of mother nature. My thoughts returned to the road, the traffic was building, the clock was ticking. I clicked over to the next track on the stereo, signaled looking into my rear view mirror, to find the road clear, put my foot on the accelerated into the fast lane. As if by an act of some supreme being, the song I had selected, summed up the moment that had just passed, "then one look at you, and I know it's gonna be..."

Leaving the staff car park on Friday, I felt a sense of achievement. Meeting the challenge, which on Tuesday morning had felt like more than mountain to climb. This was more than my usual Friday feeling. A self assurance came over me, like no time before. I had been in my new position for twenty-one days and on this, the 21st day, the realisation came over me. The right decision had been made, finally finding my feet, knowing this job will be here for me tomorrow.

On Saturday afternoon, MTV Base had an all request show. A romantic soft ballad was playing with the sweet soulful vocals of Brandy. From her earlier recordings in the mid 1990s, when she was finding success with her own television series, Moesha. I had not heard the track, but was instantly drawn to the deeply powerful lyrics that move your heart. These are the moments, when you feel the song was written just for you, and it not just a coincidence that I happen to stumble upon this track on music television.

Have you ever found the one
You've dreamed of all of your life
You'd do just anything to look into their eyes
Have you finally found the one you've given your heart to
Only to find that one won't give their heart to you
Have you ever closed your eyes and
Dreamed that they were there
And all you can do is wait for the day when they will care

Friday 21st January 2005

Bored of all listening to the same CDs in the car on my journey to work, it was time for a change. Mainly because about 4 songs, appeared across 3 of the CDs. Having only a 5 disc CD changer does limit the choice, when you have been used the unlimited supply of the MP3 CD. As I pulled up onto my drive on Wednesday evening, I took the executive decision. Ejecting all discs from the in car audio entertainment system, I quickly placed them in my CD carry case. The plan was to burn a new album. But did I get around to it? No, of course not. To be honest, my current collection is looking quite tired, with none of the fresh material, I had hoped to acquire. To this day, there are a group of tracks I listen to on a regular basis. The proof is always in the data collection. Avoiding radio, particularly commercial variety throughout the week, goes not give me the opportunity to hear new up and coming artists. Even my viewing of music television is down. More on that later.

Getting into my car on Thursday morning, I looked into my Case Logic 64 CD case to hunt for a music for the short journey to work. Mix 107 filled a small hole, while my chosen disc was loaded. I thought it important to catch up with the latest traffic news in the process. Startled to discover that my entire stretch to the office was busy, my mind raced to find an alternative route. Taking a risk and seeing very few vehicles on the road, I used my usual standard route, knowing that the alternative would add minutes onto my arrival time, which was not acceptable. Had my ears been deceiving me? The roads were clear and I got to the office in good time. Proof that local radio can not always be as accurate as they would make you believe! The disc I had chosen was labeled, 'American Home' which gave me rough guess at a creation date of around Spring 2003. I knew two of the songs that would feature, would be by Madonna and Bone Thugs 'n' Harmony. The remaining eight tracks (yes, I know wasteful use of an eighty minute disc). Switching over to track four I was greeted with an moving instrumental intro, the perfect song for the perfect moment? Maybe. The song kicked in, just I headed into the picturesque part of my journey, crossing into the Royal country just as I cross over the River Thames. Had I finally made that big leap and could finally stop wondering why? Another bundle of random acts, history seems to have a habit of repeating itself.

This is turning out to be a weekend, sponsored by the Microsoft console. I will have to be careful of how I phrase the rest of this paragraph for sure. Mr. Gates' lawyers are very expensive. Just look back at this feeble story from exactly a year ago. I received an interesting invitation in the post yesterday, in the now brand trademark green and black. Wondering what it was all about, I I opened to discover a final push by the marketing men, well in the UK at least. The Italian car manufacture has come on board to create limited edition, XBox cars. Seems like just another run of the mill gimmick by the PR men, with little being added in the name of small production batch, apart from the odd local plastered onto the dash and rear body panel. Although both models look impressive at first glance, looking beyond the image you find very little substance. Come on Microsoft, is this truly upgraded spec? Hopefully more will be revealed this weekend at the official launch. Am I just being cynical, or is this a way to shift a few more Puntos and Stilos off the forecourt with the temptation of a free console? As it would transpire, I am picking up some XBox titles this Saturday from a friend. This source will remain anonymous, but a full round of the games, reviews, screen shots will follow shortly. Plus I have the added bonus of the full Sony Surround Sound Home Cinema system, to literally blow me away! If only I can get my hands on the TV this weekend. :)

Sunday 16th January 2005

Went to the optician yesterday for my annual eye test. Although it had actually been 23 months to the day exactly since my last checkup. I have been seen by the same optician since the need to wear spectacles came about, aged 13. My high street optician of choice, is based more on past family ties than anything else. That having been said, I have been more than satisfied with the level of service I have received. Thankfully my eyesight has not got any worse, and is very much stable at it's current level. I am short sighted, so cannot make out text at large distances. Therefore, wearing my glasses has now become part of the daily routine. Even if for it was not until I started college that I actually started wearing them regularly. At school, I never had the confidence to wear them. Then in the late 1990s, wearing glasses suddenly became cool. Particularly with a host of celebrities making glasses hip again, then more recently we see a hero, with four eyes.

Not sure about how important your personal IT skills are in your household and how well respected you are as an expert. Although working in the industry, studied the subject at University and even grown up with these beasts for the past thirteen years. I really related to this article on the BBC News Magazine. If only I was working as a consultant, I could easily have retired by now. Okay, then again, maybe not.

Finally got around to updating my Audio page. It has been over five months since I last added the latest tracks in my collection, which is now nearing the magic 3000 mark. I still refer to our current decade as the noughties, although Diamond Geezer, appears to question if a final decision has been made on the title for this musical era, which still has another five years to run. You would assume that fives years in, some word would have generally been accepted. Turning to musical events more closer to home, the 1000th number one has gone to Elvis. I am not a big fan of the King of Rock n Roll, as even the title can be disputed. I like some of his songs, "Always on my Mind" and "Can't Help Falling In Love" being two exceptional favourites. In what can only be described as a shameless marketing ploy all 18 of his UK number one hits are being released over the coming 18 weeks, until sometime in April. I would have preferred to see, previously unreleased or rare material to be issued. It is my understanding that Presley recorded over 400 songs in his short life and has a major back catalogue, but most people are only aware of the big hits. My sister, Samantha is a big fan of the King. Not sure how it came about, but several years ago, just before Christmas, my sister was engaged watching an Elvis movie on television. The rest of the family wanted to watch something else, but she would not let popular opinion and potential revolt in the living room to change her mind. Later, we would discover, Elvis lights (well small bulbs with young images of Elvis as the lamp shade in her room. Then, the odd framed photograph and of course the albums, Number One, released a few years ago. Strange because my sister tends to have a very contemporary taste in music, bouncing along to her RnB and Hip Hop. I was listening to discussion on this topic on Five Live one evening over the Christmas break. A fan from across the pond was trying to explain to the panel of guests that before Elvis, there was nothing on the radio, and his sound, persona and charismatic image fueled a fresh interest in popular music. He may not have invented rock and roll but he did bring it too the masses, in a way like no other. Just thinking about one man's impact in this way is astounding. Listening to Tommy Boyd on Southern Counties last night, there are several possible reasons to question the religious reverence he is held by the fans. Amazing how such a stance on a world renowned figure can bring out the worst in human nature. Fans, after all are willing to fight tooth and nail in support of their idol.

Saturday 8th January 2005

I remember reading somewhere on the MJ Fan Club News website that a British documentary was being produced about Michael Jackson fan's to be screened in early 2005. So, it came as a little surprise that early 2005, actually referred to just four days into the new year. While flipping channels, as I do constantly, I noted the flash new rolling titles of Channel 4 which had only just been released. I saw some unfamiliar faces but heard familiar music being played for this trail. It was Human Nature. Intrigued I turned up the music to find out more about this show. I realised quickly the subject matter of the show and noted the time and date it would be broadcast. To my disappointment it was called, "Wacko About Jacko" which is just highly impertinent to the music star.

It was after my first day at work, as I drove home I realised that I would be watching the show that evening. The time had flown past by the fact that so many incidents and issues at work had overcome me. Consequently I had not spent the working day lamenting on the show. As would be the case of a big football match or even episode of Eastenders. Let me not get this out of context, I was still highly anticipating the show, but the fact that the return to work after the festive period had been so hectic, meant I had little time to do so. Getting into my car, I searched around to see if I had any MJ material available. Unfortunately I did not, so kept to the CD I had been listening to in the morning and also switching over to the radio. Local radio now becomes especially important, as I work only 7 miles away. Heading home I wondered how the show would go about portraying some of the most loyal fans in the world.

By the time came for the show to start, I was knee deep into my blog entry for my Birmingham adventure, so quickly dropped everything to switch on the television. Nav had appeared online, but quickly disappeared the moment I mentioned the show was on. Rushing downstairs to his living room to tune in. While shopping in Birmingham I had mentioned the documentary in passing, he too had seen the trail and was looking forward to watching.

After watching the hour long show, here is my personal response. If one word can be used to describe the show, sensationalised. Although I have no doubt that all the people featured are true fans, I would question the combination of fans. From one extreme we had entertainers or rather impersonators whom make a living playing the role of Michael Jackson at various events and gatherings. While on the other side, we have a band of dedicated followers, willing to spend every last money of their hard earned cash in pursuit of the magic. I also do not question the devotion of these so called, 'super fans', they are quite unique and special. Though it does start to beg the question. To what length would you go to to be like your idol? The hair extension operation being filmed was although not painful to watch, was dramatic. Why would anyone go to all this length and expense to look like a pop star? I think Michael Jackson is one of the greatest entertainers and can with great justification call himself, the King of Pop. I just question the motives of the programme makers. What was their agenda? If they want to prove that Michael Jackson fans are as crazy as the pop star himself, I feel it did not go about it the right way. Although I disapprove highly of any argument taking this such a negative and rumour based stance. The Bashir documentary, "Living with Michael Jackson" from a few years ago, which did not go down well, both sides of the water. Of the fans featured three were from the UK. Apart from the entertainer, the other two fans were rather more down to earth and dare I say, 'normal'. No, that is an unfair criticism, maybe my argument should be more justified. The other, is Navi. Apparently the World's Number One Michael Jackson, impersonator. (Or so says his website). I disagree with other people cashing in on the magic of Michael, but there is little I can do about it. Some entertainers are easily to mimic, but they are not up to the standard (standard, that is a word not even in Michael's vocabulary) and sheer breathtaking genius of the true master. That brings us on to the 'real fans'. Danny Oliver had created the now infamous anti-Bashir jacket. During the show he unveiled a new anti-Sneddon jacket. Tom Sneddon is the District Attorney who has brought these charges. If you really want to read his glowing profile. You realise the power of one man, on another individual who has grown up with an entirely fresh and pure outlook on life based much on the influence of Michael, his music and his message. Then watching him with his family, you notice that they have had a major part in his upbringing, yet the influence of the entertainer is clearly apparent. Danny came across as a happy go luck individual with a great respect, almost religious like adulation for Michael which has to admired. To those of you are not fans, you will never understand that unique gift that MJ has. I am not referring to his talent and genius, which is to this day unparalleled. The capacity to touch so many different people with his music. Music that becomes so unique and special in its own right and yet means so much to us as fans collectively also. For example, Billie Jean will always relate to a personal experience in your life, be it a school disco, or girl you liked at the time. Then, moving to the more general picture, you have that amazing video, the dance movies and intrigue of who was the song really about? No other artist in the history of recording music has had this affect on such a cross demographic of people. I doubt anyone else ever will. Sure, there are songs that you hear during a particular phase in your life, which you feel were written personally about you. Then you turn to your MJ back catalogue and listen and it takes everything to another level. The vocals move you, you want to dance to the beat. No matter what mood you are in, you can throw that CD in and within a second your mood is changed to reflect the song.

I digress, but talking about Michael Jackson does that to you. He inspires you, in a way that no other person can. Back to the documentary. The other fan featured was Anika. She is a big mover in the UK support scene, organising demonstrations, shows and other events for UK fans and has been active in this pursuit for many years. The programme makers followed her attempts to organised a celebration show for her idol in London and also trip over the the west coast of the States to see Michael appear at the pre-trial hearing. The whole show was big eye opener for me as fan. I had known of a big fan following in the United States, as aware of some UK fans being fanatics but this was something else. Their devotion to catch just a second glimpse shows the unnerved determination of these band of followers. A fine example is in the show. A few days before they pre-trial hearing, Anika, Oliver and their friend Nima, driving the rented people carrier head across from Los Angeles to Las Vegas. This is purely on the whisper than Michael may be appearing at World Music Awards. Only to discover from a security guard that Michael's seat had been given away to another less well known celebrity earlier that morning. So a five hour drive across the state border, all for nothing. Yet, although obviously disappointed, none of the gang of three seemed to have lost any faith and headed back LA, undeterred to book into to a motel to rest for a few hours before the trial. You are not given the label, 'super fan' unjustly and I have nothing but respect for sheer devotion in the face of such negative publicity and criticism from the mass media. I have never been able to support any of the artists I listen to, beyond occasionally buying their albums. Never been to a concert for an individual band or group. (Capital FM's Party In The Park does not count!) Yet, here in front of my very eyes I see average fans, with everyday jobs saving every last penny in pursuit of a dream. Yes we all have dreams, but this dream is different. You are pursuing a piece of the magic. I hear just an ounce of the magic on the albums, on the music videos (or should that be short films), on the live performances at the concerts. Yet but capturing the magic is a difficult task. These fans have made it their mission to feel the full glory of this magic by going to the source. You can never fault anyone for following their heart and pursuing their dream, whatever it maybe. Maybe because the rest of the world no longer sees Michael Jackson as the great superstar he once was. They watch with some dismay that other people are still holding a torch for Michael. These people quickly forget the many years of wonderful memories that this one man has given us, and even in the face of great adversary, he continues to prove himself unbreakable, no that is not the right adjective. To prove himself truly resilient. The line that hit this home for me, was an early statement Michael mate back in November 2003, when these allegations first surfaced.

I could go into the giving a poor paraphrased narration on the dramatic events outside the hearing in Santa Barbara. Those of you, that caught the show, will know what I am referring to and I would rather not waste time retelling a story you already know. Instead I would like to concentrate on events, the moment the show finished that evening. Inspired, if somewhat, in awe of what I had seen on the show I decided to act. This was rather a spontaneous decision, which is a major step for someone like me. I tend to plan, arrange, organise and analyze every action with microscopic precision. A long shot in any case, I thought I may be able to get an e-mail address or at least some contact details for Anika, or the UK based Jackson fan movement. It is amazing what you can find with Google a little thought and bags of patience. So, I had an e-mail address, and a Hotmail address for that matter. An e-mail, that was my first port of call. I was going to introduce myself, in the most elegant fashion. Considering the lack of respond that previous e-mails sent in a similar vain and my frustration of not having anywhere else to turn in such circumstances, I decided that an e-mail may not suitable in the current circumstances. Recalling, that less than a month ago, an e-mail to a fan of Natasha Thomas had proved meaningless. So summing up some courage, I added Anika to my MSN contact list, half expecting her to be offline. To my surprise, she was online and then I searched for the right words to say. It was precisely forty-six minutes and ten seconds since the documentary had finished. Here I was talking to one of the super fans featured, unable to find the perfect words to make that introduction and explain my reason for adding them to MSN Messenger. Noting the time, I was apprehensive of the fact that I had to the reality check of work the following day, away from my dreams of the Moonwalk.

Having made the breakthrough, I was hoping to find out more about the moment she first was touched by the allure of MJ. To my astonishment, she first saw him in a hotel in 1996. A year later she went to the HIStory concert, I'm presuming in London. Then, the moment that made me most envious was the fact she had gone to Madison Square Garden for the 30th Anniversary Celebration concert. If that was not enough she had also chosen the night when Michael sang with with Britney Spears on "The Way You Make Me Feel". Footage, most of us here in the UK may not have seen due to legal implications of the female artist appearing in concert on HBO. I cannot really describe how I felt when I was told this. For a split second I was filled with jealously. Then, in an instant, I realised why I had taken this great step of making contact over instant messaging. For as long as I can remember, the old adage, it's not what you know but who you know has been ringing in my ears. When you know someone, who has met someone famous, you want to get to know them better for several reasons. Deep down, you hope and pray that some of the fairytale will rub off on you. Perhaps.

Sharing all my personal MJ moments, with another fan is interesting, because it gets you thinking to re-discover exactly when, where and even why you suddenly become a fan of one of the most famous people on the planet. I thought about it for sometime, and then realised that I liked MJ before I actually started to listen to the music and become mesmerized by his on stage performances. It was the mid 1980s and we celebrating my birthday party at our old house in Lane End. The party was in full swing and the camera man had come into the kitchen to film all the children dancing. A classic Bhangra track was playing on our dated Grundig stereo. My cousins came into the room, and there was a bit of fuss, as the music stopped and a new audio cassette (remember those?) placed in the stereo. The dancefloor was cleared. Correction the space between the dinning table and fridge was slightly cleared. My cousin Steven casually walked on to 'his stage' and quickly switched into what can only be described as a dancing machine. Moving to the heavy beat of the music, he took the song in his stride, with the rest of my extended family looking on with curious smiles and bemusement. Intrigued my other cousins, Ajay and Simon joined in this break dance. Passing the 'electricity' between them. Even my cousin William, who even in his mid-teens was a reserved chap, joined in, to the shock of onlookers. The whole segment is just over six minutes, nothing on a three hour family video but at the time, I was a toddler, completely oblivious to the power of the performance by my cousins. I would not discover Michael for a few years to come, but ironically perhaps even poignantly, I "Wanna Be Startin' Something".

In my several discussion with Anika so far, she mentioned a more recent and unknown song (beyond MJ circle of major fans) from the Invincible album. As fate would have it, I had only truly discovered the song, exactly a year ago, when I posted the lyrics on my blog. If you let that coincidence lie, this next one is slightly more uncanny. Many of the recent albums I have burnt, have been rushed and therefore I have not been able to actually spare the few minutes to label them. Although this label would be of some help, it would not allow me to easy identify every track on the compact disc. So the case logic CD case I have in my car is fill off identical unlabelled TDK media. Picking up a disc completely at random, I listened through the first few tracks and then switched onto track four. Shocked, I was listening to the very song I had been discussing with the super fan the previous evening. My mind began to wonder, away from the road as the song came to life and filled my car. Not many vocals can take you away from the present, to a place far far away, with the comforting warm thoughts that make you glow. Few artist can achieve this. My response to the beautiful events of the past few days can be summarised in one word. Speechless.

Friday 7th January 2005

So we reach the first Friday of 2005 and not a minute too soon. Even with the comforting though of a four day working week, it has been long haul with many things going on at work. Further observations will shortly be posted on my work blog.

Only seven days into this new year, and I find already a backlog being created for my blog. Firstly I need to tie up some loose ends from my previous entry. Like a newspaper editor rushing to meet the deadline for the first morning edition, I was keen to get as much crammed in. However, this has left some gaping holes that need to be filled. Do not worry, this will not take too long and then I can bring you up to speed with more recent events. Having made the primary purchase in the morning, I felt quite pleased with myself. Yet there were still secondary and even tertiary targets to seek out. Over the Christmas period I had been extremely ruthless with my tie collection. Many had now begun to show their 2 year age, and usage over placement and subsequent City job. I needed to buy a few more ties, having already added three blue ties from Next in mid December. Most of these ties that were now cast to the charity shop, had been purchased on Wednesday 12th June 2002. On that day too, I came to Birmingham from Leicester. On that occasion, I went to Tie Rack and I was keen to give the chain some repeat business. The signs however did not far them well. There are three stores (to my recollection) within the city centre, one in each of the respective shopping centres (mall is such an American word and unfit for use as a description. In the World Cup year, I had used the Palisades branch and on this occasion, I wanted to make use of the BullRing. I was disappointed in the range available, in what must be their bigger branch of the three. The ties were bland, conservative and unexciting. My ties never make an extra exaggerated statement, but do reflect my personality as a person with a high standard dress code. Other stores did offer ties but again, did not have that special magic which made me want to pick them up. My brand loyalty was shining through and I wanted give Tie Rack another chance. While in the Pavilions Central later in the afternoon, I just headed in the direction of the store, not expecting anything, if I am honest with myself. First impressions proved to be meaningless. The store had a few customers inside, and I could not see any of the pure silk ties. Instead just the usual monotonous selection, until I looked further around. Then a few Italian Frangi ties were spotted and I just had to make a decision on colour. Feeling that my tie collection lack scope for colour, I chose a light blue tie with what can only be described as yellow oxygen bubbles pattern and a black tie (which is always useful). Bringing my grand total of ties to 9, bringing some relief to the fact that I would no longer be hunting around one morning for a tie I had not already worn that week! As I came to the till to pay, I noted a Chip and Pin terminal on the checkout desk. Would this be used this time around? To my surprise, I was asked to enter my pin, although apprehensive found the whole experience simple. Although the gentleman who served me still scanned my credit card through the conventional till after the pin had been verified. Once I was handed my receipt, I noted that this was future for all my future high street non-cyber based purchases. No longer a scribbled copy of my signature. Time will tell if the pin truly is mightier than the pen. I am still to be convinced.

Now I take a leap towards the end of the day, sorry but this final segment of the day is important, on various levels. So bear with me, on this short but entertaining ride home. The first day back to work, was becoming a realistic thought, as the sun set around me, and I entered a twilight period with all the shops switching on their lights, the street lights coming on to compensate for the darkness. Looking at my watch, the time was ticking away as I headed towards Moor Street station. Trying to block out the thoughts of the real world and the fact, some twelve hours later I would be sitting at my desk and taking phones from clients. Moor Street is a traditional style railway station, with two platforms devoted to the old steam engines of the past. Ended back to the operating platform, I realised I was on the wrong side. Trains only headed further north to Snow Hill and beyond. Just as my mistake became apparent, a south bound Chiltern Clubman pulled up opposite. It was heading to Banbury, and if I had run across I could have boarded with plenty of time to spare, but I decided to wait for the train I had planned to catch home. The station was surprising busy for a Bank Holiday, with many people waiting to catch trains. There was a group of families with young children, a few students, and a few courting couples. The answer came to this, with the sound of an approaching train. The local service, provided by Centro on dirty, worn out trains were the chosen mode of transport for these people to get to their destinations in and around Birmingham. I can think of traveling in a slightly more comfortable and reliable way than this. I did not have to wait long for my train to arrive. Punctual, as expected, and surprising for a holiday, at 17.21 precisely. I jumped onboard and was subsequently questioned by a few passengers about whether the train stopped at their destination. I would have preferred to have been more helpful but I much rather just play ignorant. Even though I had a timetable in my bag, they would spent some time trying to decipher. Quickly taking refugee in a seat, I rushed to get my radio on, listen and switch off from the passengers around me. The train was quiet and there were plenty of seats available around. Even so, many people decided to stand, very strange. I plugged in my ear phones and switched over to Core Control and was amazed at what I heard. The bass line to a popular hip hop track was just kicking in, I had switched on the radio just in time to catch the song. Smiling, I drifted into my seat, looking across at the night skyline of Birmingham fade away in the distance. Overcome by a warm feeling, I was heading home, making good time and my Birmingham adventure had come to a close. Just as the lyrics, "You Can Do It, Put Your Back Into It..." rung in my ears.

I grew tireless of listening to just the one station so started exploring the airwaves to see what other music was available. FiveLive had football commentary but from the Championship (often referred to as the Real League). So I focused on music stations, with a few new local passed stations appearing on my dial. I switched over to Radio 1 to be shocked at what I heard. It was the theme tune to one of my favourite TV show. What was this? Then I remembered the early chatter on my journey out of Wycombe. This was the Ten Hour Takeover which has become a customary fixture on most Bank Holiday weekends. The version of the A-Team theme that was played was rare, and included an extended version not played on the original television show. Sweet! Intrigued, I listened for the next few hours just to see what the public would select and if any of my personal favourites would be played. It was 6pm by this time, as I had been far too fussy trying to find something to listen to. Next to be played was an Elvis classic, but it was the song queued up afterwards which would be most spectacular I had been hoping they had not already played it but realising that the whole days programming had been devoted to this open door policy, I was less hopeful. The voice that Wes spoke to answered my prayers. "Take On Me" by 'A-ha' please said the voice over a crackly mobile line. Wes responded by offering the option to play the September 2000 UK number one cover by A1. To my astonishment, the caller did not have a preference. The abomination of his lack of true loyalty to the original baffled me. Just as the song started, we headed into a tunnel, and my reception was cut to a whimper. Frantikly I tried to retuned the radio, looking out of into the dark, looking for the light literally at the end of the tunnel, it did not come for a while and I sunk back into my seat, realising I had missed this moment. Of course, I had heard the song several times and new the lyrics inside out but the fact that Wes had not given a clear indication of which version he was going to play added to my frustration. We screamed out of the tunnel, and my radio came back to life, just as the song entered it's final chorus stage, fading to an repeation of the song name. Gutted, that is how I felt. I stayed tuned for the remainder of my journey, hoping that more classics would be played, a few were, but nothing of note. Shame my day had to end of such a minor, insignificant downer. Strange how a song can have such an imposing effect on your day.

Monday 3rd January 2005

I had planned today for the best part of the past two weeks giving rise to an excellent opportunity to get out of the house and make most of my last day of leisure. Returning to work tomorrow morning, and with that a return to reality, routine. The chosen destination was the Midlands, because of the splendor which is the BullRing shopping complex. First setting foot on the mall on Saturday 29th May last year, I was amazed at the sheer size, in comparison to the main shopping centres I know locally. (Namely Oracle and Centre MK. I know towards the end of May I gave assurances of giving some review of Britain's second city and Europe's largest shopping development. This was my opportunity to repay that debt, while generating some more financial debt for myself in the process.

Pre booking my tickets on the last day of 2004, meant I was prepared for the journey. Hoping to make use of Chiltern Railways fantastic Just £15 offer. As usual the restrictions placed upon the usage, meant it was only valid after 11am on a this bank holiday the train would be leaving High Wycombe at quarter past midday. Completely unpractical for a shopping trip, so I opted for conventional cheap day return which worked out to be £7.50. This was not just another day of window shopping, the purpose of my trip was to get a winter jacket. Not the doorman security bomber jacket variety, yet something more elegant and classy affair. Wearable both everyday over my suit but also when out on a the tiles (even if this will be quite a rarity).

Apart from buying the ticket, there was little preparation that needed to be carried out. I planned to leave Wycombe around 8am and get back by 7.30pm at the latest, in order to not miss the out my daily fix. With the timing and day set, it was a case of just getting my things together the night before. I packed my DAB Portable Digital Radio to see exactly how practical it is on the road. There was the small task of locating all my PINs for my credit cards in order to actually verify the purchase of goods. Reference to my entry from Wednesday 15th December will shed some light on my views on this new anti fraudscheme. Yet I feel forced by the banking community to adopt a procedure for which I have little confidence. Maybe in practice I will find the system much more robust. Time will tell.

Waking early, I forced myself out of my bed, with no signs of light outside. Getting ready quickly, my sister gave me a lift to the station. Getting there just before 8am, I had a short wait for my train heading North. Considering purchasing a newspaper, I decided against doing so. It would be filled with images and more reports from the Asia Pacific. This is not to come across as heartless for the plight of millions, just not today. Today, was a day away from the reality of the disaster. Time for myself. I knew, there would be points throughout the day when I would be reminded of the fact, I should be grateful for how lucky I am and my circumstances. Therefore, I chose to listen to the radio, just for some music to pass the time before my Clubman arrived on platform two. Unfortunately, I was not just in a black spot but in a blackout area. Possibly due to the same reason that mobile coverage is so bad in a town forged in between two valleys. So, defeated I backed away the device and continued to wait for my train. The town was dead, as was the station with a few early birds scurry to catch the train to London. Two other passengers were waiting for my train, and had come to sit down. Both reading tabloids of some descriptions, which I tried my best to avoid the headlines and concentrate on the platform clock, ticking away. The station announcer, gave the news I had been waiting for, my train was about to arrive, so with a smile I looked eagerly down the track, across into the distance. A journey, I used to make on a daily basis. Upon boarding the train I was again attempted to listen to the radio, hoping for a more successful outing that on the station platform. Disappoint was the only result, no station was audible. It was not until we were on the outskirts of the town, that I started getting a distinguishable signal. My first choice was to find a station playing back to back pop music, thinking it would not take long to find. I was wrong, so I decided to listen to BBC Asian Network but yet again there was nothing appealing to be heard. So, against my better judgment, I tuned into the Breakfast on Five Live knowing all to well what the main subject of discussion. However, the tone was light hearted, almost jovial reflecting my mood on this last day of my Christmas break. What was more surprising or rather refreshing was that they discussed a subject that I would experience for first hand later in the day. Apparently, I am not the only doubter of the effectiveness of the new system and more importantly there are the concerns over the transfer of liability. The show was followed by Richard Bacon sitting in for Victoria Derbyshire. This focused directly on the crisis, but more so on the magnificentresponse of the British people. With some high profiled guests, the discussion moved more towards whether there were more worthy causes both at home and abroad, which do not receive the blanket media coverage. Africa was seen as a shining example of a continent ravaged by war and corruption that need the aid to stand on its own feet. Although the talk was rich with stirring arguments, I decided that I needed to relax more and let other being deal with the outside world, even if just for one day. The British countryside was rolling by my window, green, warm and bright. Today was going to be a good day. Even though the day had started out quite chilly, it felt quite mild. The journey was going well, and my carriage slowly had a few more passengers, as we cut across Banbury and Warwick. It was at this point, I decided to listen to music again, and randomly scrolled down the available stations. Switching over to Core and hearing a great song. Now rap is not one of my favourite genres of music but the artist is even less favoured. Many of peer group would disagree, but I am deeply offended by his music, image and general outrageous outlook on life. The only song, I have in my collection is 'Stan', but that is more to do with the soothing calm vocals of Dido thank anything else. On this occasion, I was forced to listen because of the sampled a rarely heard but much loved song from the late 1980s. It came to my attention in early November on PopJustice but unfortunately they are still processing their Archive for September to December 2004. I will link to the article in due course, but I have to give credit to changing to context of the song, to such a topical subject of war (among other others)

Drawing close to Birmingham, I had to make a decision. Either disembark at Moor Street or the next final stop, Snow Hill. As we pulled in towards the city, the train came to a stop for a few minutes, and I could make out the strange silver elephant, sticking out against the backdrop of the city landscape. I decided it was best to take off at the first opportunity and suffer the consequences. I quickly packed away my radio and headed out, with what seemed the majority of the crowd off the train. It was a mild Monday morning, with little traffic outside. Although I did not feel sleep, I was blind to the architecture surrounding me, mainly because I was trying to get some bearings, look at the street signs and follow the other pedestrians. I turned around to be shocked to see the Selfridges building, to my left. Within a ten second walk from the station, I was in the middle of the BullRing complex, I never knew that it would be such a stepping stone away and had envisaged a struggle to get there. The day was panning out to be better than expected. The next stop was to head over to the main city terminal. Apparently the 1854 original was compared to Grand Central station in New York. Personally, I doubt it. I got there just as Nav was coming into the station, so I only had to wait a few minutes before he arrived. Before the rush set in we headed across to the centrepiece of the day, with a newly constructed BullRing link, which connects the station with the shopping centre. Our adventure was just about to begin.

When I had met Nav last Wednesday, he was sporting a black wool overcoat. This was exactly what I was looking for, or had been looking for since September. Just with work and everything, had been unable to get around to making the purchase. By putting it off, I waited until the January sales to find the ideal garment. So, now in Birmingham, I was sure I would be able to find what I was looking for. Preferably I wanted a designer name, but that was not essential, the feel and look was more important. The jacket had to forefill to important criteria. Be wearable in everyday work mode, on top of my suit but also be suitable to wear on a night out on the town. Our first stop was the flagship store of the BullRing and the newest of only four department stores in England. The city centre was still quiet, as we headed to Selfridges. Looking around at the sale items, I was extremely disappointed with the quality of the merchandise on display. I understand that the store want to attract a certain breed of clientele but is it really to arrange the shop floor in such a way to provide their 'unrivaled shopping experience'. To myself personally, there is clutter and no order to the presentation. Plus, with many big brand names wanting prime spots across the floors and play top dollar for the privilege, you feel bombarded by the name, rather than the product. No which is truly more important? The one jacket we did spot, was priced £572 reduced from £1000. Sorry but that is just slightly out of my price range. Disappointed and surprised by the lack of jackets available, we headed out to search around the rest of the shops.

Our journey how takes the roll call of a standard High Street in any medium sized British town. Next, River Island, GAP, FCUK and USC. All not quite having, what I was looking for. Sure most of them stocked winter jackets but the style and image was just not for me. Can you really see me wearing a hooded jacket? Please. Debenhams did have a fantastic Thomas Nash jacket with a minor flaw. It was not long enough to wear over a suit. However, I kept the jacket in mind, hoping to return if something more suitable could not be found. Nav suggested we change tack and look to support the independent retailer. So, once again, we tried several shops in the BullRing with the aim of finding a jacket. The first store we went into was a small shop selling suits with a few winter jackets at the front of the store on sale. Although the jackets seemed ideal, the one I wanted, in a dark blue was just slightly too big. Even having my suit on underneath, I could not justify the purchase. We looked around at the other jackets, but the sizes just increased to copy with the larger man on the street. It was at this point, having spent a good solid two hours searching that we ventured outside of the shopping complex, to New Street. We headed into Burton first but there was nothing there, apart from a small selection on a rack on the first floor. All highly unsuitable. Heading back into the street, we headed back towards the station, noticing the increase volume of pedestrians. The people of Birmingham were slowly waking up on this Bank Holiday. It was then I saw the store, labeled simply 'kf', we headed in to be greeted by a smartly presented Asian man, about our age. This at first seemed like a good sign but we were to be disappointed. Heading towards the back of the store, I noticed the some jackets hang up. Standing next to them, was another salesman. Again, Asian, but how do I put this, less appealing to the eye. The first jacket, was a deep purple colour and by Lambretta. Thankfully it was the right size, but just note the right cut. Nav pointed out the jacket behind and picked it up. We were duly informed by the employee that this was 'by a different company', in his rather light brummie accent. These were not at all the appropriate way of dealing with a customer and he seemed to just not quite be bothered. I was surprised that the next words out of his mouth were more constructive, offering me to try on the jacket in the changing rooms. I declined and headed over to the mirror and put on the jacket. It felt comfortable and once glance in the mirror reassured me that this was the jacket I wanted to get. When it comes to buying things, I become quite decisive once I have picked up the perfect item. Unlike women, who still tend to fuss, or consider the big dilemma of do I have the right shoes and handbag to go with this, I just tend to go with instinct. If it feels right, and more importantly if the price is right, I will make that purchase. Sure, the jacket was not some major designer label, but that is not a big issue for me. I would much rather be wearing something comfortable and suitable. Nav, in his own way was advising me against making a rash purchase there and then, but rather to ask for the jacket to be kept for an hour or so, while we continued to shop around. My feeling was we had wasted enough time looking around and I was conscious of the fact that I had dragged my friend around all these stores for nothing. Taking off the jacket, I headed back to the sales assistant. I thought the fact that I informed him I was willing to make a purchase. No joy, this did not change a thing, the poor customer service continued. Perhaps the research is true and poor management is to blame. Who knows? But to be honest, I completely detest the cut of his jib. On his own personal blog, Nav takes the discussion one step further by using rather strong language to describe our experience in this store. So if you are offended by such words, look away now. Purchasing the jacket on my credit card, I was looking forward to entering in my pin instead of having to sign the conventional authorisation slip. To my disappointment, although a chip and pin terminal was available, I was requested to sign to verify the transaction. Then, to make matters worse, I was given a useless bag for my purchase. Those stupid plastic carrier bags, which have the rope attached to close the top. I am sure I could find a much more suitable use for this piece of string.

It was lunchtime and I was hungry. However, I was not in the mood for the traditional fast food. We headed over to Pavilion Central and their Food Court on the top floor. Busy, with long queues we walked around and decided it was best to head further out of town to find somewhere less rushed to have lunch. Then Nav suggestion Subway and I agreed. I remember seeing a branch somewhere, but could not remember exactly, so headed back in the direction of New Street station. It was just outside, underneath the may walk way between the street and train station. This was the first time I had been to the fresh eating establishment since the summer and I was looking forward to it, for some strange reason. One of the few places you can go, not spend a fortune on food and leave reasonably full.

When I met up again with Nav later that afternoon, we still had few hours grace before both of our trains departed back home. While working in Swindon, Nav had told me of his religious lunchtime routine. He would head over to the local Greggs. The dream was taking shape. A extra strong coffee would be purchased along with a large custard slice. Then, returning to the office, he would scoff this down, with the beading eye of his manager just a metre away. Having created such a delicious picture, I too wanted to have a piece of this dream. Going back into the BullRing we searched frantically for the local in store branch. It was some distance away and once got our bearings we headed across to the lower floor. To our disappointment, all the custard slices had sold out and none of the alternatives seemed at all appealing. So we had to make another decision. With less than an hour to go, I suggested we grab a cup of tea or coffee (I am strict drinking of tea only!) The first outlet had been Costa, but we opted to head outside to Borders bookshop for something less crowded and actually read some books at the same time. Outside stands the magnificent Saint Martins Church in contrast to the contemporary shopping centre which almost overshadows it. Opposite was the Spiral cafe from our Italian coffee loving friends. It was at this point in the early evening, I was able to stop and take stock of the day. What I had seen, experienced and the thought of going back to work tomorrow began to hit home, as the sun had set across the city skyline. The conversation took very much a similar route, with the future, jobs and what our careers hold coming to the surface. I was glad to have met up with Nav, particularly as I see so little of him these days, with his life firmly set in Leicester and Lincolnshire. Hoping that the time would not pass us by I kept looking at my watch, almost erratically, not wanting to miss my train home. This must have distracted my ex-house mate to death but it had to be done.

Before we left, I wanted to 'record' the moment and as I had not bought along my digital camera, my camera phone was the second best option. Taking photographs of the Christmas Tree and Selfridges building. I will upload them later this week, but be warned the quality will be of substandard. With the customary handshake, I said goodbye to Nav and headed to Moor Street station. My last words to him, was I was looking forward to reading his blog entry on the days events. He promised that something would be put something together by at least Tuesday night. With that I headed for the journey home.

It has taken me several evenings to write this blog entry and I still have not completely finished, so will offer the final part, the train journey home later in the week. When I checked my credit card slips when I got home and looked again at the bag my jacket had been placed in, I was shocked. The store from which I had made this most significant of purchases, was called, Kensington Freak. Is someone, somewhere trying to tell me something?

Saturday 1st January 2005

It appears that I, like many others of you celebrated the arrival of the new year, a second late. Thanks once again to Diamond Geezer for carrying out full in depth research on the fact that new technology takes longer to process than the good old fashion antiques from the last century. Further investigation shows the other holes in the broadcasting technology.

For many of us, this is a new start, a fresh year with a clean slate. Yet, the somber start to 2005 with our thoughts far from home. With the death toll climbing to unprecedented levels. With an opportunity for us all to make a difference. Keeping up with the latest on events has meant switching from the conventional resource to the more personal power of community. The web becoming an easily accessible international rescue. The angel of deliverance brings home to many families, friends across the globe with detailed entry on Wikipedia. This is one of those world events that will live long in the memory of those that it affected most, but will become my JFK moment. Impossible comparison, I agree but the magnitude of the events is equal, to a certain extend. Just like the passing of a member of the royal family or head of state. A charity record looks to be on the drawing board hoping to raise some £2 million.

It is difficult to connect with the suffering of so many. The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of millions is a statistic. That saying may well have rung true many years ago but in the age of blanket media coverage, we find ourselves, sharing in the grief, if not agreeing with the portrayal.

Quick links

Updates