2012 — 13 June: Wednesday

If forced to choose, there are many worse ways to start the day than with a credit note from your ISP.1

On that theme, I must be terribly old-fashioned. I don't think national radio news should consist of an outgoing chap (probably wearing a suit for which I'd need a mortgage) telling us that had the guvmint and the Bank of England listened to him five years ago and given Lloyds Bank a massive overdraft with which to buy Northern Rock, the collapse of Northern Rock would (not "could", notice) have been prevented. I note that the preferred meaning of the FSA regulatory body (Financial Services Authority) according to "Private Eye" is Fundamentally Supine Authority.

I love the way these terribly nicely-spoken, terribly reasonable, chaps in suits always have ways — after the event — of extracting money from us for clearing up situations and messes that they were supposed to predict and prevent in the first place. But then I also love the way my malingering phlegm clearly demonstrates2 an absence of intelligent design elsewhere, too.

I have breakfast to prepare, a lunch snack to pack, and a stroll in the fresh air to boot. The days are just packed, aren't they?

That's Froxfield...

... done and dusted for another few weeks. It's one of our handful of mainly road walks, and thus more suited to the aftermath of the recent monsoon conditions.

Recall my ghastly...

... end-of-last-year musical epiphany? The one where I (foolishly) decided to treat the 635 CD compilations I currently have in my audio collection as being nothing more than arbitrary hard-wired 'playlists'? And to disperse all these random tracks into more sensible subfolders? What the hell was I thinking? Why didn't someone stop me?

Nearly six months down the line, have I finished this hateful task? Don't be silly! But I do now have (literally) hundreds of music tracks relocated under subfolders with dull names like "A - Misc" and "B - Misc". Why on earth did I ever think this was a smart idea? Can I now find stuff more efficiently? No. And the brutal truth about many of these compilation CDs is that they contain single tracks by people who then disappear from the music scene without any further trace. Great.

Time (18:29) to start giving serious thought to my evening set of calories. The sun is now shining from a cloudless sky (though I gather we're in for yet another rinse cycle from the Great Washing Machine that lives up there somewhere).



1  Following yesterday's chat, my service is now wearing its "new, improved" smaller monthly download cap, and I have a £7 refund to prove it. (Well, technically, all I actually have is a PDF file showing this good intention.)
2  Some might say "conclusively proves".