where art collides philosoperontap

I’m sure you will have noticed that when it is nice weather everyone is happier. Obvious statement I know but I felt like stating the obvious. It’s just that it is such a morning. It’s not only us surfers that are happy. The boids are too. I also felt like slipping into the vernacular of the East coast of the USA. It’s all based on gangster movies seen as a kid. I’m sure the old black and white movies are better than the stuff they have on today. Simpler. Ahh the good  old days.

They should have a channel on TV that just shows repeats of black and white movies. They probably do – it’s probably called BBC2 or something 🙂 Sorry if that was being disrespectful to BBC 2. That’s just what it was like when I was a kid. It’s almost certainly not like that any more. Bound to be filled with good stuff.

I dunno really. I watched the snooker on BB2 the other day. Maybe it just plays snooker matches. There is a lesson here and that is one needs to have a better set of statistical data in order to be able to determine what sort of stuff a TV channel puts out. If you left it to me I might tell you that BBC2 just showed old episodes of I Love Lucy and Snooker. I’m exaggerating somewhat here for dramatic effect but you know what I mean.

I used to like I Love Lucy when I was a kid. Showing my age a bit here innit but hey. This post is of the moment and the small print of the 3^rd Law states that in reality the time goes quickly principle applies to most aspects of life except when you are having to sit through a really boring church service or lecture or similar.

I remember we once went to the wedding of a friend in the South of England and it turned out to be the deeply religious full monty high church jobbie. After the third hour we were all preparing to slit our wrists when I plucked up the courage to go outside. I stood in front of the window of  TV shop and watched Beckham curl in a free kick from an unlikely distance from goal to get England through the qualifiers and into the world cup.

Since then I’ve learnt not to wait the three hours. I just get up and leave straight away life’s too short when you live by the 3^rd Law. This included the time I was a guest speaker on a business cruise aboard the Aurora Cruise Liner. The life of a guest speaker aboard these liners is highly cushy. In four days I did two talks and moderated three workshops and had the rest of the time to myself doing what one does on cruise liners – gazing out to the blue horizon from my outside stateroom balcony, relaxing on a deck lounger by the pool etc etc.

During the welcome reception on the first night I sat at the bar next to some guy from the Chartered Institue of PR. We exchanged business cards. He was their Director of Business Development or some similar lofty role. Once he saw who I was, ie not someone on board for the PR conference, he instantly lost interest in me and his eyes started to wander around the room. That’s cool I thought to myself and toddled off to spend half an hour having a very entertaining chat with Geoff Miller, Chairman of the England Cricket Selectors (that’s how I roll).

A couple of days later I had had enough of sitting round the pool so I took a gander at what conference talks were on and decided to go to a potentially interesting hour hearing about up to the minute PR methods. I have very broad interests really. It turned out that the talk was being given to my PR friend of the first night. I chose a spot bang in the middle and near the front and settled in ready to learn. What came out was the most boring lot of drivel I have ever heard. This guy patronised the audience with a very poorly delivered lecture on very basic PR principles. I was offended but gave him 15 minutes before standing up in front of everyone and walking out.

Later I was having a coffee and over heard some women talking about a lecture they had been to and how they had given it a low score on the feedback form. I asked whether they were talking about the PR guy and they were! 🙂 Saying I had walked out on it they said that they had all wanted to do but were too embarrassed. I hope that guy has improved his public speaking or stopped doing it!

I do have other similar stories but I’ll keep them for slow news day.

It’s a funny aspect of nice weather that I never seem to play golf in it. I play in the winter wrapped up in umpteen layers but when the sun comes out and it looks as if it is perfect for the golf course a kid always comes along and demands my time. I can’t complain. It’s the 3^rd Law again. The kid will be gone soon enough and I will spend my days playing golf and wishing I could get my handicap down and regretting not spending enough time playing when I was younger.

Only joking really. If I didn’t play golf what would we do with that space in the utility room where the clubs are currently kept!?

The only problem with nice weather is that one’s mind turns to barbecues. “Woa boy how is that a problem” I hear you say. Ok I know where you are coming from but barbecues mean lots of chilled beers, great food eaten in the outdoors followed by sitting around the firepit (for yes, our BBQ is also a firepit) drinking brandy until the sun goes down and you go indoors to watch the snooker on BBC2.

Hmm, on further examination you are right. It is not a problem. We have a good garden for barbecues. There is always a choice between sun and shade somewhere. We havea deck at the bottom of the garden that doesn’t get used all that much though it is nice to sit there and have lunch in the shade on a hot summer’s day. There is also a space for a hot tub. It is currently occupied by a “play house”. It’s a huge two storey thing that was a great idea when the kids were really small but has only been used to store garden furniture for the last few years.

There are only three things stopping us from getting a hot tub. The first is that they are expensive. Secondly it wouldn’t get used that much and thirdly where would we keep the garden furniture? We could wait until the kids have all left home even though they would no doubt complain that it would have been nice to have the hot tub available for teenage parties. We don’t want no teenager parties around here, wrecking the joint.

We had a marquee in the garden for our daughter Hannah’s eighteenth. She had a joint bash with her lifelong buddy Lois. It was quite a bit of fun exploring the options. Lois’ dad Steve and I ended up having beers in the pubs that we checked out as venues. Funnily enough there weren’t many places in Lincoln that would take an eighteenth birthday party. None. Not even the rugby club!!!!

In the end we did it ourselves and it worked out really well. A hundred or so kids turned up in their glad rags. They were only allowed in the house to go to the downstairs loo and to the bar which was in the conservatory. Boy have drinking habits changed since I was a kid. It didn’t take us very long to run out of vodka which seemed to be all they drank. We had to have two restocking runs to Tesco.

They all left dutifully at the stroke of midnight which is the time the parents turn into pumpkins and leave glass slippers strewn all over the place. There was only one casualty, a kid from round the corner who kept imploring me not to tell his mum that he had been slightly unwell and spent half the night with his head in the bin I had set aside for recycling bottles. It wouldn’t have taken his mum long to find out I thought.

I think they had a great eighteenth. She’d better not be expecting a 21^st though 🙂 Nice quiet family affair maybe. My 50^th was a good do. It was in December and we had a beach party and barbecue. We’re on that theme again. Barbecues. On that occasion I got some students in from the local catering college to run the BBQ, the bar and dish out the nosh. It was a great night, from what I can remember. We drank a barrel of Timothy Taylors’ Landlord.

That was some time ago now though the 3^rd Law says it feels like yesterday. Got to cram thing into this life. Get on with it.

Looking up from this bit of writing just now I notice a tweet from Beverly Racecourse in my twitter stream. What a wonderful name for a girl. Mr & Mrs Racecourse and their daughter Beverly have just arrived in town and are looking for some entertainment. Any takers? Who’s up for it? Come on now, don’t be shy, give it a try.

The trouble is what keeps the Racecourse family entertained might not be your or my cup of tea (not completely sure of the grammar there). They might in fact like to spend their evening playing whist and drinking copious quantities of tea whereas the rest of us might want to go off and play bingo. I only chose bingo as an example. It is unlikely that I would want to “go off and play bingo” though I don’t object to a few hands whilst out and about at the seaside. Do they play “hands” of bingo? Might be cards. Anyway it doesn’t matter, the principle is the same.

I have been known to have a game of bowls, of the crown green variety. It’s a young man’s sport regardless of what they say. Better than ten pin bowling at which I am pleased to say I am completely useless. My position is that if you are good at ten pin bowling there is something wrong with you. Especially if you have your own bowling shirt, ball and bag. I am sorry but that is how I feel.

There’s something quite cathartic about writing that down. It’s off my chest now. I already feel better. Mind you I wouldn’t want you to go around thinking that I have been worried about the bowling thing because I haven’t. It does put me in a certain camp. Those who think like I think. I may be wrong but I think I am in the majority. Please don’t take this as me picking on minorities.  I would take the same view for all sorts of cults to a greater or lesser degree especially ones that make you wear fancy clothes and carry round shaped bags.

Funny how stuff just comes out like that though. That’s the beauty of it all. Things. Life. Stuff. Tinternet.

Part 22 here

Part 24 here