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.