Happy Days

There it is.

This morning I had a few deliveries to make, and my weapon of choice for the task was my trusty Volvo. Yes, I know it's horrifically uncool to like Volvos, but I am unconcerned by such things. I care not one jot. My barney is not bothered*. I give not a fig. You can barely move for the amount of fucks I do not give. It's an ace car and I will brook no argument on the matter.

One of the many many wonderful things about it is tucked away in the little cubby hole/armrest between the front seats, which was probably designed to accomodate a fondue set, a member of ABBA or some other essential Swedish accoutrement.

A USB port.

This means that I can connect my iphone to the car's sound system and have my crap choice in music rattling the windows. It's quite a good sound system and on full volume it has the ability to frighten small dogs and pensioners at 50 paces.

So this morning's playlist was as per the photo at top. I put it together yesterday and it contains nothing but tracks I can sing** along to in a wildly overenthusiastic manner. Some tracks even get full-on mimes of the singer responsible (Mick Jagger, I'm looking at you) and "chicca wah" style guitar breaks by yours truly at 70mph.

Anyway, if you're interested, here's my soundtrack for the morning. I was quite surprised at just how many of the words I remembered. By the time I was back in the office I was as happy as a dog with two....um, well.....tails. Yes, a dog with two tails.

Shake Me Down - Cage The Elephant
Jump Into The Fog - The Wombats
Beautiful Day - U2
Nem Vem Que Nao Tem - Wilson Simonal
Underdog - Turin Brakes
Pass Out - Tinie Tempah
Honky Tonk Women - Rolling Stones
Rewired - Kasabian
Gold On The Ceiling - The Black Keys
Italian Leather Sofa - Cake
Burn Baby Burn - Ash
Mardy Bum - Arctic Monkeys
Kate - Ben Folds Five
Ain't No Rest For The Wicked - Cage The Elephant
Ooh La - The Kooks

Sadly missing is Voodoo Child by Hendrix. I have several versions of it, most of which he's playing whilst ripped to the tits on various recreational pharmaceuticals and I couldn't find the (slight return) version before I left the office. It will be fixed.

Today is a good day.

NDC

* - This is one of the FMA's colloquialisms from north of the border. I hope I said it right...
** - Shout.

Three Ring(road) Circus

You know how it is, weirdos are like buses...you wait an age for one and then, well, you know the rest.

On Saturday morning the lovely FMA, 50% of the kids and myself were in The Barge (AKA the Volvo), heading out for a bite to eat. The sun was shining, birds were singing and we were dawdling along the ringroad (again) at a licence-freindly rate.

You may think that excitement would be a scant commodity given:

A) The location
B) The mode of transport, and
C) The number of points currently tarnishing my licence

Not a bit of it. Gasps of astonishment from the back caught our attention. Then we saw him.

He stood right beside the busy ringroad face turned up towards the sun, arms outstretched with upturned  palms and a beatific smile, looking for all the world like Leicester's answer to Christ the Redeemer. The traffic slowed towards the lights and we sat watching, open mouthed, as his gaze slowly shifted from sky to ground and back again.

Did I mention that he was entirely naked?

Not a stitch on. not so much as a sock or a figleaf or even any kind of pixellation. It was quite a sight.

FMA called the police and told them we had just seen a naked, confused gentleman standing by a busy ringroad. Our friends in blue serge took details of the man's location. They took details of FMA's home address. They even asked if she was calling on her own phone which tickled me, but the final question was the killer;

"Why do you think the man is confused, Madam?"

They don't all get filtered out in Hendon, do they?

NDC

Fight The Power 28/365

Fight The Power 28/365
Originally uploaded by geezer742uk

I am a middle aged man with a Volvo.

Deep down inside however still beats the same heart that, at seventeen, made
me do a lot of very silly things in the name of rebellion.

The picture at right is my car. Parked in a space clearly marked "Lord Mayor
Only". (It's painted on the parking space, you can't see it due to 1.5
tonnes of middle-class hardware obscuring the view. But trust me, it was
there). It was like a flashing beacon, calling out across the years to my 17
year old self - "The Man is saying you can't park there. You're not going to
stand for that, are you?"

My travelling companion was like a cat on hot bricks about the whole heinous
crime. Me? I desperately wanted the Big Cheese himself to turn up and ask me
to move. As it turned out, our esteemed leader didn't actually appear, so I
guess it qualifies as a victimless crime.

Yes I know it's childish, yes I know that I should know better at my age and
yes I know that it was entirely pointless.

But the small part of my heart that will forever be seventeen was happy.