I've been slack on blog updates recently due to having a huge workload to complete for a deadline that passed last Wednesday, and after going to bed at 3 a.m. and starting work again at 6 a.m. this morning, I'm sure you can imagine that slightly demented feeling I have weighing down my brain right now.
Nevertheless, there will be updates soon. There are plenty of things I still have to write.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Who the hell does this guy think he is?
Ken Livingston, elected Mayor of London.
This, the man who publicly accused the American administration of racism before war began in Iraq, now deems it entirely reasonable to refuse to apologise for repeatedly likening a Jewish Evening Standard reporter to a guard at a Nazi concentration camp, only months after playing host to the lunatic Islamo-fascist Al-Qaradawi
Why is this buffoon allowed to continue, ignoring the toothless Assembly every time he's asked to apologise for errors that, in the past, would have rightly brought down a politician?
This, the man who publicly accused the American administration of racism before war began in Iraq, now deems it entirely reasonable to refuse to apologise for repeatedly likening a Jewish Evening Standard reporter to a guard at a Nazi concentration camp, only months after playing host to the lunatic Islamo-fascist Al-Qaradawi
Why is this buffoon allowed to continue, ignoring the toothless Assembly every time he's asked to apologise for errors that, in the past, would have rightly brought down a politician?
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
The Mars Volta - Frances The Mute
A pre-release version of the next Mars Volta album, named Frances The Mute, has been in my possession for some weeks now, but only this morning did I realise just what a spectacular beast it is.
See Drowned In Sound for music filtered through words into a flask of hype, but believe me, when this thing comes out, it's going to be REALLY special and do what De-Loused in the Comatorium did for my 2003.
See Drowned In Sound for music filtered through words into a flask of hype, but believe me, when this thing comes out, it's going to be REALLY special and do what De-Loused in the Comatorium did for my 2003.
Neil, are you reading this?
Last Friday I was just trying to find anything written by my good friend, Neil, who writes for The Times newspaper. Running a search through Google brings up a result ranked currently at 7 (down from rank 3 last Friday) that reads "French pharmacy jar for venereal disease remedy Neil Fisher". Makes sense to me (!)
Try it for yourself by typing <"neil fisher" times online> into www.google.co.uk
Try it for yourself by typing <"neil fisher" times online> into www.google.co.uk
Friday, February 11, 2005
Fragility
I must say that I've been feeling a bit fragile today, following a fairly substantial session at a local pub with Richard last night. However, I do feel the need to let the world know that you can get a cointreau and lemonade at the Half Moon in Stepney for a mere £1.50. Excellent, Smithers, Excellent
The Naomi Awards
I kept hearing people yesterday who were asking each other (and me) whether I'd be watching the Brits. My reply was a resounding 'no', for the obvious reason that I'm not interested in an event to reward a load of people whose lifestyles and commodification of musical performance have been taking the mick out of the general public's bad taste and lack of cultural discernment for all of 25 years.
I was however, pleased to read that the Naomi Awards are still going strong, with Iain Lee (general teenage funnyman in an adult's body) presenting the flipside of this experience, and pointing out the uselessness of many of those who are deemed to have 'made it' in the music business.
I was however, pleased to read that the Naomi Awards are still going strong, with Iain Lee (general teenage funnyman in an adult's body) presenting the flipside of this experience, and pointing out the uselessness of many of those who are deemed to have 'made it' in the music business.
Friday, February 04, 2005
Wasp T12 Speechtool
As I walked into Whitechapel tube station yesterday, I actually stopped and backtracked to read one of the billboards, regarding the Wasp T12 Speechtool. I'd seen the obnoxious seemingly teen-geared advert a few times already (and it somewhat reminded me of the horrible JD Sports Adverts branded around the "we got it they don't" message), but up until that point, I hadn't realised it was satire. Something from the text jumped out at me in the way it messed with the English language, and I immediately recognised it as the work of Chris Morris, of whom I'm a huge fan.
Have a look at the online version of the advert, pressaging the forthcoming Nathan Barley series (of www.tvgohome.com fame). I don't want to try and demistify it in words, but it's a brilliant piece of work in the way it takes apart many of the unpleasant conventions that have entered into advertising, and the ugly desires that those adverts work on.
Have a look at the online version of the advert, pressaging the forthcoming Nathan Barley series (of www.tvgohome.com fame). I don't want to try and demistify it in words, but it's a brilliant piece of work in the way it takes apart many of the unpleasant conventions that have entered into advertising, and the ugly desires that those adverts work on.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Feeling weary
I've been feeling a bit odd, all day today. I'm sure it's mainly due to lack of sleep, having kipped in the spare room at Luigi's for the sum total of 4.5 hours last night, but I also feel as though I may be on the verge of the 'flu. Anyway, before this becomes a melancholy-blog, I should probably write about something else.
I've been thinking recently that humour in the workplace is incredibly important, and probably something that most employers don't fully factor into their understanding of employee satisfaction. I don't mean some kind of cringe-worthy David Brent-style humour, but that kind of knowing camaraderie humour that you get after being in a job for a little while, where you have enough of a stock of common experiences, or at least enough shared adversity at being at the raw end of something mentalist. We used to have that here, but since the departures of a couple of my workmates around Christmas time, that release valve seems to have disappeared. That's not to say that my workmates aren't generally really nice people, but I just feel the pool of humour DNA has dried-up somewhat.
And yes, I keep telling myself. I know what has to be done.
I've been thinking recently that humour in the workplace is incredibly important, and probably something that most employers don't fully factor into their understanding of employee satisfaction. I don't mean some kind of cringe-worthy David Brent-style humour, but that kind of knowing camaraderie humour that you get after being in a job for a little while, where you have enough of a stock of common experiences, or at least enough shared adversity at being at the raw end of something mentalist. We used to have that here, but since the departures of a couple of my workmates around Christmas time, that release valve seems to have disappeared. That's not to say that my workmates aren't generally really nice people, but I just feel the pool of humour DNA has dried-up somewhat.
And yes, I keep telling myself. I know what has to be done.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Sickening, frustrating financial system
Aaaaaargh. I've just returned to the office after a trip to the Lloyds TSB, and I'm deeply wound-up by the poor service I've had from the banks over the past two months. On my first visit, back during a lunchtime in early December, I discovered that, since so many people in Camberwell are busy stealing bank cards from each other, or impersonating each other, they've had to up the level of security so that you can't withdraw money over the counter without a passport or driver's licence (identity cards, anyone?).
So, in order to transfer any money from one bank to another, the only way to do it without incurring a £20 charge from Lloyds is to take the money out *in cash* and carry it to another bank. Primitive, huh? And importantly, it's not very safe. I wouldn't want to have to physically carry several hundred quid with me if I were an elderly person out and about on the streets of Camberwell.
Right at the start of December, I had to pay my rent to my landlords at and HSBC branch, and, get this, between 11 and 3 (i.e. the only hours anyone who has a job can go to them), they won't serve anyone but people holding HSBC accounts. All of this is really due to the UK's infuriatingly-short, mediaeval banking hours, that mean that banks are pretty much never open when those of us who work 9-5 (or 10-6 ;-) ) are free.
Next, on the 6th December, in order that I could pay Jack for the flights to America, I went down to Lloyds where, because I didn't have a passport with me, I had to take out the money in cash from the cashpoint, in order to pay it straight back in to the bank desk. This all took quite a while, and I was only at liberty to do it because I was officially on my way back from a meeting out-of-office. This all seemed like it had gone okay until Jack pointed out to me as we were leaving for the US that the money hadn't arrived at Barclaycard.
Once we returned from the US, the money _still_ hadn't arrived at Barclaycard. So I went to the Lloyds branch to find out what had happened. They had just decided that it would sit in one of their holding accounts, conveniently. Doesn't look like they intended on telling me - if you were the sort of person for whom £340.10 isn't a lot of money, you probably wouldn't have ever noticed, or been informed that this had happened to your money.
Obviously interest had accrued on this money while it remained unpaid on Jack's Barclaycard. I pointed this out to Lloyds TSB once they'd tracked what had happened to the money, and they said that, since I'd paid the money in on the 6th (the date it was due), that they wouldn't pay the first month's interest because it actually takes them 4 days to electronically transfer the money to another bank or credit card. 4 days to process a simple electronic payment?!! How the hell does that work? A cheque I can just about understand, but cash paid into a human being which will be input immediately?
Strikes me as another way for Lloyds to have the money sitting in their accounts, accruing their own interest.
They conceded that they were responsible for interest beyond the first month, and would pay that. They told me to get statements from Jack, bring them into the branch, and we'd re-process the request. Jack sent me the statements. I went back to the branch. They spent 10 minutes attempting to work out the situation from their Customer Record Management system, then told me that I'd need to get Barclaycard to tell us exactly how much interest was related to the £340.10, so I'd have to get the actual statement from Barclaycard, which Jack would have to request.
I relayed this to Jack on the phone. "They won't process it without the ..." > "Can't process it!" they interrupted from behind the glass. "What about all of the account information on the original mandate?" I asked. "It's not valid" they (helpfully) replied, even though it would clearly be the exact same info.
Now here's the good bit. They then decided to inform me that I shouldn't have been allowed to try and pay the credit card bill originally at all, because I wasn't the cardholder of the credit card, and the cardholder wouldn't necessarily be a Lloyds customer. What about me being a Lloyds customer? And why has it taken them nearly 2 months to express this policy, after botching the original transfer?
Jobsworth scum working in an antequated industry.
So, in order to transfer any money from one bank to another, the only way to do it without incurring a £20 charge from Lloyds is to take the money out *in cash* and carry it to another bank. Primitive, huh? And importantly, it's not very safe. I wouldn't want to have to physically carry several hundred quid with me if I were an elderly person out and about on the streets of Camberwell.
Right at the start of December, I had to pay my rent to my landlords at and HSBC branch, and, get this, between 11 and 3 (i.e. the only hours anyone who has a job can go to them), they won't serve anyone but people holding HSBC accounts. All of this is really due to the UK's infuriatingly-short, mediaeval banking hours, that mean that banks are pretty much never open when those of us who work 9-5 (or 10-6 ;-) ) are free.
Next, on the 6th December, in order that I could pay Jack for the flights to America, I went down to Lloyds where, because I didn't have a passport with me, I had to take out the money in cash from the cashpoint, in order to pay it straight back in to the bank desk. This all took quite a while, and I was only at liberty to do it because I was officially on my way back from a meeting out-of-office. This all seemed like it had gone okay until Jack pointed out to me as we were leaving for the US that the money hadn't arrived at Barclaycard.
Once we returned from the US, the money _still_ hadn't arrived at Barclaycard. So I went to the Lloyds branch to find out what had happened. They had just decided that it would sit in one of their holding accounts, conveniently. Doesn't look like they intended on telling me - if you were the sort of person for whom £340.10 isn't a lot of money, you probably wouldn't have ever noticed, or been informed that this had happened to your money.
Obviously interest had accrued on this money while it remained unpaid on Jack's Barclaycard. I pointed this out to Lloyds TSB once they'd tracked what had happened to the money, and they said that, since I'd paid the money in on the 6th (the date it was due), that they wouldn't pay the first month's interest because it actually takes them 4 days to electronically transfer the money to another bank or credit card. 4 days to process a simple electronic payment?!! How the hell does that work? A cheque I can just about understand, but cash paid into a human being which will be input immediately?
Strikes me as another way for Lloyds to have the money sitting in their accounts, accruing their own interest.
They conceded that they were responsible for interest beyond the first month, and would pay that. They told me to get statements from Jack, bring them into the branch, and we'd re-process the request. Jack sent me the statements. I went back to the branch. They spent 10 minutes attempting to work out the situation from their Customer Record Management system, then told me that I'd need to get Barclaycard to tell us exactly how much interest was related to the £340.10, so I'd have to get the actual statement from Barclaycard, which Jack would have to request.
I relayed this to Jack on the phone. "They won't process it without the ..." > "Can't process it!" they interrupted from behind the glass. "What about all of the account information on the original mandate?" I asked. "It's not valid" they (helpfully) replied, even though it would clearly be the exact same info.
Now here's the good bit. They then decided to inform me that I shouldn't have been allowed to try and pay the credit card bill originally at all, because I wasn't the cardholder of the credit card, and the cardholder wouldn't necessarily be a Lloyds customer. What about me being a Lloyds customer? And why has it taken them nearly 2 months to express this policy, after botching the original transfer?
Jobsworth scum working in an antequated industry.
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Spike
There was a spike in the mains at our office this morning, that took out both the phones and messed up the network for a few hours - thankfully I've pretty much sorted everything out, but it's reminded me of how important it is the get everything backed-up as well as you can.
If you're sitting at a computer right now, consider making a back-up within the next couple of hours. You never know when it'll save your bacon (or at least your mp3s)
If you're sitting at a computer right now, consider making a back-up within the next couple of hours. You never know when it'll save your bacon (or at least your mp3s)
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
My holiday blog: To the beach (Day 10)
For our last full day of the holiday, we went down to a place called Cocoa Beach. As with much of the holiday, I got to play iPod DJ in Andrew's car, choosing a selection of music that seemed appropriate to the glorious weather (including up-beat Beatles songs, some Death Cab for Cutie, and some A, as I recall).
When we got to the beach, we lazed around, watched some bloke trying to operate one of those giant kites that is supposed to lift a man off the ground, into the air (I kept wishing he'd actually take off into the hostile wind direction and crash into a nearby building), and watched amorous old folks and metal detector enthusiasts walking on the beach.
It really was a lovely day, the perfect way to spend our last day in Florida, and I even got some sun on my skin for the first time in 3 years.
For the last night we went back to Will's Pub and the Peacock Room to see a pretty amusing band called Doris Delay and the headliners, The Sharp Objects. Unfortunately I started to feel a bit unwell (Jack attributes this to meat poisioning, but he's a vegetarian, so he would). Not even brandy could cure me. We made one last pilgrimage to Steak and Shake at the end of the night, then back to Amber's place for some tea, which i missed because I kept falling asleep.
Nonetheless, a great day.
When we got to the beach, we lazed around, watched some bloke trying to operate one of those giant kites that is supposed to lift a man off the ground, into the air (I kept wishing he'd actually take off into the hostile wind direction and crash into a nearby building), and watched amorous old folks and metal detector enthusiasts walking on the beach.
It really was a lovely day, the perfect way to spend our last day in Florida, and I even got some sun on my skin for the first time in 3 years.
For the last night we went back to Will's Pub and the Peacock Room to see a pretty amusing band called Doris Delay and the headliners, The Sharp Objects. Unfortunately I started to feel a bit unwell (Jack attributes this to meat poisioning, but he's a vegetarian, so he would). Not even brandy could cure me. We made one last pilgrimage to Steak and Shake at the end of the night, then back to Amber's place for some tea, which i missed because I kept falling asleep.
Nonetheless, a great day.
My holiday blog: Here Gators! (Day 9)
Since our previous attempt to see an alligator hadn't been entirely successful (!), we decided that we ought to take a trip to Orlando's best half-day attraction, Gatorland... oh, come on, we didn't go to any other theme parks while we were in Orlando!
We set out around mid-day, as we did pretty much ever day, seeing as we'd got into the late getting-up, late going-to-bed routine, proudly sporting our unemployment beards for all to enjoy. Mary-Anne kindly drove us to a Burger King situated directly opposite a McDonald's, their signs standing tall over either side of the freeway like fast food totem poles. Inside, I was delighted by the menu on offer - Burger King in the US has a MUCH wider selection of meals, including things like salads with hot prawns. More importantly, they had 1/3lb Aberdeen Angus Burgers plus chips and a drink for $5. I was not amused that they're able to sell burgers made of quality British meat like this, prepared-to-order for such a low price, when we in the UK have to eat burgers made from oestrogen-pumped cattle from the Amazon rainforest! However, since returning home, I've read that this has helped them increase market share in the US by 12.5%, and they will be bringing this burger to the EU and Britain next year. Good news, I think, but we'll have to see how the price will be set.
So, onto Gatorland. Gatorland was a lot of fun, the world centre for alligator excellence, if you like. Just as we walked into the park, there was a sizeable crowd gathering around the outsides of a large pool to watch the alligator jumparoo (where they try to get alligators to jump out of the water by dangling chicken entrails over the surface). Despite cries of "here gator! gator! gator!" from the bizarre prozac™-induced woman leading the whole event, the gators weren't really that bothered to 'jumparoo', knowing they'd get the meat in the end, one way or another.
We went around the rest of the park, looking at the gators, truly impressive reptiles and (get this, people from the RSPCA) surprisingly resilient to having quarters thrown at them - they don't even wake up when you're really hoping to get some sort of jaw-snapping reaction from them. That day was unbelievably hot, at least in the high 20s on the centigrade scale, and highly unusual even for Florida in January, which perhaps explains the lack of reptilian reaction. Still, they were impressive. We also caught a Gator Wrasslin' show, where 2 blokes dressed as Indiana Jones whipped and wrestled child alligators, charging small British children $10 to sit on the back of a gator and pose for a photo. They had some cool tricks too, like keeping a gator's snout shut within the mouth of one of the gator-masters.
That night, everyone agreed that we could go somewhere where I could buy a big steak. You always hear about people eating stupid weights of steak in the US, and I thought I ought to try it while I was there. At the Alehouse I ordered a 20 ounce steak. It was a beast, but I beat it, then went on to eat a small burger Thurston couldn't finish, some of his fries, and a fried piece of cheese. Don't forget this is the day I'd already eaten a third of a pound of Angus steak [Frank, I hope you are pleased by this prospect!].
Half an hour after leaving Alehouse, however, my body decided it couldn't cope with the sheer weight of steak ingested and it left my system again. The less said about that, the better.
That evening we were due to go to Will's Pub again, but we couldn't get in due to fire regulations (they thought a man who'd eaten over a pound of meat could pose a fire hazard), so in the end we went to a place called The Peacock Room where we saw a really good band called Hurrah. I seriously enjoyed them, and I recommend you check them out, just my kind of band. This was my idea of a really good day, capped off by accidentally finding a venue as we walked past it and heard a band playing, and accidentally discovering a band you really like.
We set out around mid-day, as we did pretty much ever day, seeing as we'd got into the late getting-up, late going-to-bed routine, proudly sporting our unemployment beards for all to enjoy. Mary-Anne kindly drove us to a Burger King situated directly opposite a McDonald's, their signs standing tall over either side of the freeway like fast food totem poles. Inside, I was delighted by the menu on offer - Burger King in the US has a MUCH wider selection of meals, including things like salads with hot prawns. More importantly, they had 1/3lb Aberdeen Angus Burgers plus chips and a drink for $5. I was not amused that they're able to sell burgers made of quality British meat like this, prepared-to-order for such a low price, when we in the UK have to eat burgers made from oestrogen-pumped cattle from the Amazon rainforest! However, since returning home, I've read that this has helped them increase market share in the US by 12.5%, and they will be bringing this burger to the EU and Britain next year. Good news, I think, but we'll have to see how the price will be set.
So, onto Gatorland. Gatorland was a lot of fun, the world centre for alligator excellence, if you like. Just as we walked into the park, there was a sizeable crowd gathering around the outsides of a large pool to watch the alligator jumparoo (where they try to get alligators to jump out of the water by dangling chicken entrails over the surface). Despite cries of "here gator! gator! gator!" from the bizarre prozac™-induced woman leading the whole event, the gators weren't really that bothered to 'jumparoo', knowing they'd get the meat in the end, one way or another.
We went around the rest of the park, looking at the gators, truly impressive reptiles and (get this, people from the RSPCA) surprisingly resilient to having quarters thrown at them - they don't even wake up when you're really hoping to get some sort of jaw-snapping reaction from them. That day was unbelievably hot, at least in the high 20s on the centigrade scale, and highly unusual even for Florida in January, which perhaps explains the lack of reptilian reaction. Still, they were impressive. We also caught a Gator Wrasslin' show, where 2 blokes dressed as Indiana Jones whipped and wrestled child alligators, charging small British children $10 to sit on the back of a gator and pose for a photo. They had some cool tricks too, like keeping a gator's snout shut within the mouth of one of the gator-masters.
That night, everyone agreed that we could go somewhere where I could buy a big steak. You always hear about people eating stupid weights of steak in the US, and I thought I ought to try it while I was there. At the Alehouse I ordered a 20 ounce steak. It was a beast, but I beat it, then went on to eat a small burger Thurston couldn't finish, some of his fries, and a fried piece of cheese. Don't forget this is the day I'd already eaten a third of a pound of Angus steak [Frank, I hope you are pleased by this prospect!].
Half an hour after leaving Alehouse, however, my body decided it couldn't cope with the sheer weight of steak ingested and it left my system again. The less said about that, the better.
That evening we were due to go to Will's Pub again, but we couldn't get in due to fire regulations (they thought a man who'd eaten over a pound of meat could pose a fire hazard), so in the end we went to a place called The Peacock Room where we saw a really good band called Hurrah. I seriously enjoyed them, and I recommend you check them out, just my kind of band. This was my idea of a really good day, capped off by accidentally finding a venue as we walked past it and heard a band playing, and accidentally discovering a band you really like.
My holiday blog: The Mall (of America) (Day 8)
On Thursday we got the whole New Year's Eve gang together again and went to a restaurant called Red Lobster for dinner. We hadn't done very much at all during the day itself, after waking up late, but we got in a few games of Soul Calibre II, naturally. At Red Lobster, I went for a tripartite meal of two seafood dishes and a steak. It was very good.
Later that evening, we went to The Mall to have a look at the shops. It was as if this was a more highly-sugared, highly-scented version of shops as you see them everywhere else, and reminded me of the line in the Desaparecidos song, The Mall of America, "If my sadness needs a catalyst I'll just uncover my eyes, so much stimulus". Jack and I looked for a thank-you present for Thurston, hoping to find a BBC comedy DVD of some sort, and found it in Borders across the street from the Mall.
Later that evening we headed down to Will's Pub, a very cool little pub and venue where we saw a synthy funk-post-rock band who sounded a lot like the most recent Q and Not U record. Their set got better as the evening went on, but I wasn't blown away, and I actually stayed to listen to them for much longer than T, Jack, or Mary-Anne. Later, we drank in the open air section of the front of the pub and were approached by a pony-tailed bloke who had gone to school with T and Mary-Anne and now worked as a talent scout for boy bands.
Later that evening, we went to The Mall to have a look at the shops. It was as if this was a more highly-sugared, highly-scented version of shops as you see them everywhere else, and reminded me of the line in the Desaparecidos song, The Mall of America, "If my sadness needs a catalyst I'll just uncover my eyes, so much stimulus". Jack and I looked for a thank-you present for Thurston, hoping to find a BBC comedy DVD of some sort, and found it in Borders across the street from the Mall.
Later that evening we headed down to Will's Pub, a very cool little pub and venue where we saw a synthy funk-post-rock band who sounded a lot like the most recent Q and Not U record. Their set got better as the evening went on, but I wasn't blown away, and I actually stayed to listen to them for much longer than T, Jack, or Mary-Anne. Later, we drank in the open air section of the front of the pub and were approached by a pony-tailed bloke who had gone to school with T and Mary-Anne and now worked as a talent scout for boy bands.
My holiday blog: Shopping (Day 7)
On the Wednesday, we went to a large shopping area in Orlando, with a view to finding a shop called Guitar Centre (I've subsequently learned that this is a large chain with stores all over the country). We had some trouble finding the actual building among the many many substantial out-of-town stores, but went into a furniture shop where a middle aged lady gave us proper directions. I thought the atmosphere they'd managed to create was much more carefully-considered than in your average retail park back in Britain. There was a feel that this was a little town within a town, with pretty little boulevards lined with palm trees and chic cafes spilling out onto the wide pavements alongside the various retail emporia.
Inside Guitar Centre, I quickly found the right guitar, in black and aluminium colours. It played really nicely, and I knew almost immediately that this was the one I should buy. I easily saved myself a couple of hundred quid off the cost of buying one on ebay, and I was also able to play it to see how that particular instrument played. After putting my guitar in the boot of Thurston's car, we went to a computer game shop where T and Jack picked up some bargains. I was really tempted to buy a Gamecube, at about £30 versus the £80-£100 in the UK, but I didn't want to risk the added difficulties of converting the voltage for the UK.
After grabbing some lunch at what amounted to a Subway-on-steroids sandwhich bar (with much better ingredients and an amazing choice of salads), we went back to Park Avenue, the excellent record shop, where Jack bought Subhumans records and a t-shirt.
That evening we tried to take it a bit easy. Just a few Irish Car Bombs and some Chris Rock DVDs at Thurston's house.
Inside Guitar Centre, I quickly found the right guitar, in black and aluminium colours. It played really nicely, and I knew almost immediately that this was the one I should buy. I easily saved myself a couple of hundred quid off the cost of buying one on ebay, and I was also able to play it to see how that particular instrument played. After putting my guitar in the boot of Thurston's car, we went to a computer game shop where T and Jack picked up some bargains. I was really tempted to buy a Gamecube, at about £30 versus the £80-£100 in the UK, but I didn't want to risk the added difficulties of converting the voltage for the UK.
After grabbing some lunch at what amounted to a Subway-on-steroids sandwhich bar (with much better ingredients and an amazing choice of salads), we went back to Park Avenue, the excellent record shop, where Jack bought Subhumans records and a t-shirt.
That evening we tried to take it a bit easy. Just a few Irish Car Bombs and some Chris Rock DVDs at Thurston's house.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
My Holiday Diary: Back to Orlando (Day 6)
We all woke up a little worse for the wear on the Tuesday, following the One Dollar Per Pint Incident (as I like to call it; noone else calls it that).
By mid-morning I'd realised that I needed to take advantage of the free wireless internet access that three of Karin's neighbours were broadcasting my way, to get some work done (I didn't get around to doing it before I came to Florida so had to email it off because it was date-sensitive). While I was frantically typing away in the room abutting the kitchen, I could hear the programme Andrew, Jack and T were watching, about the growth of white supremacist movements and neo-Nazism in America. It actually sounded pretty informative, and I was sorry I was working on work work instead.
As we left G'ville, I persuaded Andrew to drive us to a guitar shop, which sadly ended up no longer being in existence. On our way there, we stopped at a middle eastern cafe for lunch. I had falaffel for lunch and as we were about to leave someone spotted a Camel Rider special on the blackboard. God knows what that meant!
The homeward journey yielded few surprises other than the dubious roadside adverts aimed at truckers. A short stop-off at the road-side services also gave me the opportunity to enjoy some retro arcade game action on a machine running the original Street Fighter II (hadoken!).
That evening we were all pretty washed-out, but me, T and Jack went out in search of pizza. We stopped off at the pizza place (literally a large, enclosed hut) and watched cops come and go. Thurston had told us the previous day that this was where the local cops provided some special protection to the owners in return for pizza, and the delivery drivers didn't go out on deliveries without being armed. Nice!
We went Downtown again that evening, and after a couple of drinks in the Bar B Q, where we played Cursive, The Mars Volta and At the Drive-In on the jukebox (!) courtesy of an old washed-up Guns and Roses fan who insisted he wanted to hear some new music, went next door to The Social.
Within minutes of us arriving at this altogether more trendy establishment, a live hip hop group had started up. Between them, they delivered a ten-minute speech about how 'for real' they were, but then actually launched into something very that was very musically-interesting, like a version of the Black Eyed Peas for serious musicians. Their backing was played live on two sampling drum-machines by a really talented percussionist and the rap-singing was well-rehearsed and full of syncopation.
It takes a lot to get me excited about hip-hop, but I'm really glad we stayed to watch most of this set, because it was good.
(Unfortunately we forgot what they were called on our way home. Maybe Thurston or Jack can add something to this in the 'comments' section of this diary entry)
By mid-morning I'd realised that I needed to take advantage of the free wireless internet access that three of Karin's neighbours were broadcasting my way, to get some work done (I didn't get around to doing it before I came to Florida so had to email it off because it was date-sensitive). While I was frantically typing away in the room abutting the kitchen, I could hear the programme Andrew, Jack and T were watching, about the growth of white supremacist movements and neo-Nazism in America. It actually sounded pretty informative, and I was sorry I was working on work work instead.
As we left G'ville, I persuaded Andrew to drive us to a guitar shop, which sadly ended up no longer being in existence. On our way there, we stopped at a middle eastern cafe for lunch. I had falaffel for lunch and as we were about to leave someone spotted a Camel Rider special on the blackboard. God knows what that meant!
The homeward journey yielded few surprises other than the dubious roadside adverts aimed at truckers. A short stop-off at the road-side services also gave me the opportunity to enjoy some retro arcade game action on a machine running the original Street Fighter II (hadoken!).
That evening we were all pretty washed-out, but me, T and Jack went out in search of pizza. We stopped off at the pizza place (literally a large, enclosed hut) and watched cops come and go. Thurston had told us the previous day that this was where the local cops provided some special protection to the owners in return for pizza, and the delivery drivers didn't go out on deliveries without being armed. Nice!
We went Downtown again that evening, and after a couple of drinks in the Bar B Q, where we played Cursive, The Mars Volta and At the Drive-In on the jukebox (!) courtesy of an old washed-up Guns and Roses fan who insisted he wanted to hear some new music, went next door to The Social.
Within minutes of us arriving at this altogether more trendy establishment, a live hip hop group had started up. Between them, they delivered a ten-minute speech about how 'for real' they were, but then actually launched into something very that was very musically-interesting, like a version of the Black Eyed Peas for serious musicians. Their backing was played live on two sampling drum-machines by a really talented percussionist and the rap-singing was well-rehearsed and full of syncopation.
It takes a lot to get me excited about hip-hop, but I'm really glad we stayed to watch most of this set, because it was good.
(Unfortunately we forgot what they were called on our way home. Maybe Thurston or Jack can add something to this in the 'comments' section of this diary entry)
My Holiday Diary: More Pool (Day 5)
Playing pool represents an important priority when you're on holiday. Never moreso when there are $1 pints on offer. Oh yes.
There was a funny bloke running the door at the massive pool hall, who asked me about my Converse - "Hey boy, where you get those soft-toe shoes? We ain't seen them since the seventees!". An observant young man, he'd failed to notice that Thurston was wearing them too. Sure, never seen 'em since the 70s. At turning -out time we went back to Karin's student house in her friend's Sport Utility Vehicle (that's a jeep to you and me), and I tried to sleep on an incredibly noisy air matress while Thurston and Jack took the couches.
There was a funny bloke running the door at the massive pool hall, who asked me about my Converse - "Hey boy, where you get those soft-toe shoes? We ain't seen them since the seventees!". An observant young man, he'd failed to notice that Thurston was wearing them too. Sure, never seen 'em since the 70s. At turning -out time we went back to Karin's student house in her friend's Sport Utility Vehicle (that's a jeep to you and me), and I tried to sleep on an incredibly noisy air matress while Thurston and Jack took the couches.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
My Holiday Diary: Trip to Gainesville (Day 5)
We'd stayed the night at Andrew's House, so came back to T's place, then set out for Gaineseville that afternoon. Gainesville is one of the biggest university towns in the state, and Karin, Andrew's sister, goes to 'school' there. G'ville also used to be the hot place for punk bands in Florida, but that seems to have died down now, which is a shame. We 4 lads went out with Karin and a flatmate of her's to the Swamp, where there were $4.95 pitchers of Budweiser and Coors (that's about 4 pints for £2.50, and not at all unusual here). Food was good, again - this time I had a blackened Mahi Mahi fish.
After that, we all walked Karin's flatmate home, before heading out with a different flatmate to a big pool hall.
After that, we all walked Karin's flatmate home, before heading out with a different flatmate to a big pool hall.
My Holiday Diary: Visit to Andrew's (Day 5)
I spent some of Sunday writing up things for my blog (for your delectation!), then mid-afternoon we all went to Andrew's house for a barbecue. Andrew's step-father refurbished his barbecue that afternoon, with new grilles and metal trays, then cooked us some very fine barbecued salmon. The sea food on this trip has really been excellent!
It was a really nice gathering: the mums of Andrew, Thurston and Buddy's dad (two sisters and a brother) were all there together along with their husbands and wife and it was great to see a large portion of a close-knit family all together. It was great to talk to Buddy's Dad also, who was a huge fan of a number of different styles of music, and has clearly had a lot a reciprocal musical influence upon and from the kids. We, the yoof, ate dinner together, and then went off the Blockbuster to rent something to watch that evening. We went with The Anchorman in the end. It was okay, but I felt that the jokes-per-minute rating was too low to stop me from falling asleep, so I had to bow out a little after midnight, before the film had finished.
It was a really nice gathering: the mums of Andrew, Thurston and Buddy's dad (two sisters and a brother) were all there together along with their husbands and wife and it was great to see a large portion of a close-knit family all together. It was great to talk to Buddy's Dad also, who was a huge fan of a number of different styles of music, and has clearly had a lot a reciprocal musical influence upon and from the kids. We, the yoof, ate dinner together, and then went off the Blockbuster to rent something to watch that evening. We went with The Anchorman in the end. It was okay, but I felt that the jokes-per-minute rating was too low to stop me from falling asleep, so I had to bow out a little after midnight, before the film had finished.
My Holiday Diary: Dixie Crossroads (Day 4)
In the end we decided against trying to find the beach and went for dinner to a seafood restaurant called Dixie Crossroads. Now here's an idea they could export to Britain: seafood at sensible prices! The restaurant was generally really unpretentious and I was able to order a locally-caught, fresh lobster for the equivalent of £8. I've never seen anything like that in the UK, and I'll bet that TV chef Rick Stein would love the idea. Thurston ordered a platter of various shrimp and other seafood, and Jack had half a pound of catfish.
At the restaurant they also had a tall, barrel-chested Sheriff on duty at the welcome podium (near where I shot the photo of the giant shrimp wearing a Christmas wreath). It was a bit intimidating, but seems to be part of the public-private nexus that goes on here in the US, where the police are sometimes employed outside of their hours to work or are assigned to a public place like a pub or restaurant as a preventative measure against drink drivers and other potential problems. I really wanted to get a photo of me with this Sheriff, but I can't imagine he'd have found it as funny an idea as I did.
We drove back from Jacksonville and went to Jimmy's, T's local pool club. I put some Cake songs on the jukebox and we had a few games of pool before returning home.
At the restaurant they also had a tall, barrel-chested Sheriff on duty at the welcome podium (near where I shot the photo of the giant shrimp wearing a Christmas wreath). It was a bit intimidating, but seems to be part of the public-private nexus that goes on here in the US, where the police are sometimes employed outside of their hours to work or are assigned to a public place like a pub or restaurant as a preventative measure against drink drivers and other potential problems. I really wanted to get a photo of me with this Sheriff, but I can't imagine he'd have found it as funny an idea as I did.
We drove back from Jacksonville and went to Jimmy's, T's local pool club. I put some Cake songs on the jukebox and we had a few games of pool before returning home.
My Holiday Diary: Hidden alligators (Day 4)
Saturday began slowly, but by the afternoon we set out looking for a beach near Jacksonville. On our way, we decided to have a look at a alligator nature reserve to see if we could spot some of the wee beasties. They were evidently hiding, but I managed to get this nice shot of the sunset for my blog!
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