2009 — 17 August: Monday
The banana boat song... goodness me. Followed by Strange Fruit. That's Bob Dylan as a DJ for you. Although I watched an episode of the West Wing I preceded it by "Chemical Wedding" as it's time I returned the DVD to its owner, who's calling in this evening to inspect the Oppo Blu-ray player. A strange piece, written by the Iron Maiden frontman, radio DJ and airline pilot, Bruce Dickinson. Interesting, though, even if Simon Callow does chew up the scenery more than somewhat.
Right. It's 01:16 and well past time for tonight's picture of Christa:
I took this as she was standing outside the cluster of flats in Old Windsor. We had just moved into a rickety old ground floor flat, for which (although without benefit of a rent book) we paid the entirely reasonable rent of £52/month. The squirrels in the gnarled old oak tree in the front, and the horse and foal in the back, were included at no extra charge. As was the Art Deco furniture in our bedroom.
G'night.
Slightly slothful start...
.. what wiv it bein' 10:16 an' all. Where's that cuppa?
This sensible chap definitely gets my vote (but then his party has been getting my vote since 1972):
Alas, I mis-typed on Saturday's last picture, and sent a reader off on a wild Google chase for a non-existent model of NAD CD player. Sorry, Tom! Thanks for the tip. The labels on the keytops on this fancy new Microsoft keyboard have already worn to the point of invisibility — which wouldn't matter had I tried harder to become a touch typist back in 1981 when IBM was paying me to do just that...
Something new to ponder: the nocebo effect. The opposite, of course, of the placebo effect:
Placebo, Latin for "I shall please", was part of the Catholic rite of Vespers, and first employed in "trials" in 16th-century exorcisms, which used fake holy water to test whether a person was truly possessed.
Fake holy water? Good gracious! Is nothing sacred?
Strange world, warped values
It seems some Maoris have their own form of water-boarding, some Christians are now embracing Harry Potter and another Potter is recanting his former sins in the US health insurance business.
It's 12:45 and my window frames should now be safe from any rain, I hope. I can therefore put the ladder back into the garage and thus stop tripping over it in the hallway. I feel a minor-league expotition coming on (since I have to disturb the car from its nest before I can relocate said ladder).
Somewhat later
Southampton book shops have been comprehensively browsed. An ex-colleague has been letting off steam over the despicable-sounding behaviour of a certain large computer company towards those of its staff yet to retire. And the Oppo Blu-ray player has been put through its paces. Somehow, it's 22:58 already. When did that happen?