The random doubts of Walter Mondale

Last Saturday night

2012-02-14T20:12:00.002Z

Two grainy images taken from the middle rows of a darkened theatre in the backstreets of Norwich.

The tall gentleman wearing a suit is hosting an evening of acoustic music.

As well as introducing the bands he let rip a couple of times with some banter and the odd funny line. One reviewer commented "A perfect blend of the BBC and Basil Fawlty".

The band in the bottom picture are the rather wonderful 'The Thinking Men'. Think Tom Waits/Modest Mouse and a lot of loving what they do.

It was tremendous fun and yes, I am available for future bookings.

Poetry

2012-01-11T21:29:00.005Z

Right now I am in the middle of a very exciting and busy phase of my professional development.

I am working long and hard and am spending alot of time in a small office , or having intense conversations and trying to prove myself.

I am giving alot of me to others. I am not giving enough of me to my darling family and am pretty much ignoring myself.

I don't mind this too much as this will soon pass and it's all part of a journey I have chosen to undergo.

Still, it occurred to me yesterday.

There needs to be more poetry in this world.

Pious

2012-01-01T21:02:00.002Z

Can I be pious?

Can I?

Since leaving Facebook I have had more real and correct conversations with real people.

I have taken a wider interest in actual things going on about me.

I have listened more.

I think I have appreciated more.

I am much less concerned with what others might think.

I'm enjoying things much, much more.

Facebook Schmacebook

2011-12-13T22:03:00.004Z

I've left Facebook.

I had been toying with the idea for a while , I finally cut the ties last week.

I thought you might be interested in knowing my reasons, in no particular order.

I was spending small yet increasingly frequent amounts of time looking at the irrelevant snapshots of people I simply did not know. A few weeks ago I looked at the holiday pictures of a cousin of a friend. Somebody I have never met and will almost certainly never meet.

There's nothing wrong with aquaintances , theres nothing wrong with keeping in touch with such folk. I have a phone full of numbers I hardly use. I have countless email addresses. I'm just not sure I need to read their wisecracks about my life, nor am I sure I need to post updates about my rambling existence for them to comment on. Catch 22?

It was Oscar Wilde who went along the lines of 'spending too much time on the little things and not enough time on the important things'. I was spending too much time on little things.

Aquaintances posting pictures of the boozy teenage years. No thanks.

It's been over a week. Nobody has noticed.

A parent at school asked me to be a friend. I accepted. Nothing was ever actually said. All this happened online. That's no way to behave.

Some of the vitriol that poured out of people regarding the recent public sector strike made me wonder why I was in that room. It was not a party I wanted to attend, surrounded by people I did not like. I experience enough real and challenging relationships everyday, I don't need cyber equivalents.

I really don't want to be there.

I have a number of dear friends. I am a lucky man. Those that matter are in regular contact outside of Facebook. I hang out with a number of good people who have never been anywhere near the site.

Town Hall

2011-12-06T22:34:00.004Z

Just attended a meeting of the local council.

Me, FRD, about 200 other angry townsfolk.

We went to put our opinions across, to ask questions and to make our elected officials decidedly uncomfortable about one of their less than great ideas.

We didn't get all the answers, we found out a few new facts but we came away feeling energised to go to the next stage. At various points I had to employ the Alistair Campbell tactic of squeezing my finger to aleviate anger.

The mayor smirked and was not at his best. He came across as arrogant and dismissive. He was absolutely not enjoying this. I have to admit, we were. It was a good display of people power.

I was proud of my town.

Schlesinger

2011-12-04T20:47:00.003Z

In between books I turn to the journals of Arthur Schlesinger Jnr. These are the dates I turn to first.

1968. RFK's candidacy and assasination

1968 Humphrey v Nixon.

1980 Carter v Reagan.

2000 Gore v Bush connundrum.

1958 First meetings with the Kennedys.

1972 Nixon v McGovern.

1973 My birth (Schlesinger doesn't mention this, he's more concerned about Watergate)

1976 Carter's candidacy.

1997 Any reference to Blair's landslide in the UK.

decor

2011-10-17T21:08:00.002+01:00

Have opted back to the proper blog set up.
The other way was too overp-p-p-p-powering.

File under fuckwit.

2011-10-14T21:06:00.001+01:00

I have a 45 minute commute.I have a busy day.I do a lot of things.I help a lot of people.I have a lot of things going on in my mind at all times of day (and night).At the end of the day I drive 45 minutes home and look forward to seeing my family.I park the car close to my house.I get out.I check my phone.3 messages.I check my pockets.I get back into my car.I drive 45 minutes back to work.I return my bosses car keys to her.

Another time and place

2011-10-08T20:57:00.004+01:00

The internet contains many unusual and incredible treasures.Shea Stadium, Fall 2006.

It's been a while...

2011-10-01T20:40:00.001+01:00

...since the last post. Here's some of the zietgeist.Round these parts there has been death, illness, sorrow, tears. Survival, recovery, joy, sadness. Separation, reunion, laughter, fear, hope. Rain, sunshine, together , apart. Defeat, victory, faith, philosophy.The main point is this, we are all still here. we are moving forward and are confident that the sunlit uplands are close at hand.We have learned that family and the love within it is the strongest, most beautiful thing we have.Thank you for listening.

running scared, the return.

2011-08-05T21:36:00.004+01:00

Tonight I ran for the first time since March 2009.

Started softly, 5 minutes on, 5 minutes off for 30 minutes.

But by god it was good, it was an absolute tonic.

The MacBook is dead, Long live the MacBook Pro.

2011-06-04T21:14:00.000+01:00

Messing about on my new laptop.

Searching the LBJ library photo archive.

The old and the new.

2011-05-28T18:59:00.005+01:00

It has never been my desire or intention to harp on about the old day and old fashioned ways. There is an awful lot about 'now' that is really good and useful, I'm glad I live in the present.

But here comes the but.

When I were a lad, Cup final day was a holy day. The nation paused, you watched telly from lunchtime until 5.30. I don't know what the outside world looked like on those saturdays in May, I never left the house. It was always on a sunny Saturday in May and the build up was giddily exciting , even if the game was anything but. Cup Final day marked the start of summer. And as for the name? It was the Cup, You didn't need to call it anything else.

And during those days there was also the European Cup. Between 1977 and 1984 English clubs won seven out of the eight finals. It was expected that an English team (normally Liverpool) would be in the final and would be pictured the next day emerging from a plane with the trophy. You would stay up late on a Wednesday night and watch the slightly scratchy pictures from Rome or Paris, the commentary would have that wonderful longwave radio quality. Those were the days long before digital, HD quality.

So what's changed? In short, plenty.

Let's start with the FA Cup. It's had a sponsor for years and has perhaps graduallylost some of it's aura. A couple of years ago the cup 'needed a cuddle' and got it with a drab Portsmouth V Cardiff final. This year (ironically because of the ECL final at Wembley tonight) the final was bedded in amongst Premiership fixtures two weeks ago. I caught about ten minutes of the match. The holiest day of the year was completely lost amongst relegation struggles. Tonight, I settle in front of the telly with some grub and a beer in order to support Barcelona against Manchester United in The Champions League final.

Supporting Barca? Surely unpatriotic. Cobblers. I've a few teams I dislike for a number of strange irrational reasons. I dislike United for one simple reason.

Their fans.

Almost every full grown United fan I have ever met has been a pillock. I have never met a United fan over the age of 11 who has not got an excuse for supporting them . An excuse? You should be proud to follow your team. You should not need an excuse!

"United were crap in the 80's"

"My dad's cousin was from Manchester" (But you have lived your entire life in Essex?)

And in a nod towards tonight's coverage of the big game, I do not need Christopher Ecclestone to tell me where I have gone wrong! You were a good Dr Who but you know 'shit all' about football.

I accept that they are the benchmark and that Sir Alex Ferguson is an incredible manager, and I don't buy into the idea that Barcelona represent all that is beautiful and good in a sour old world, But I still reserve the right to cheer on whoever United are playing

Object of desire

2011-05-16T21:38:00.000+01:00

City 'til I die!

2011-05-11T21:41:00.000+01:00

Ah, Spring in England. Is there anywhere finer? Why stop there? Why not narrow it down to a fine city in the East, perhaps Norwich? And for a month let us choose May.

The fifth month, as we all know is a time of decisions. Who stays up? Who goes down? Who lifts silver to the sky gods and who completes two promotions in as many years? These happy cyclists are on their way to worship at the alter of Mr Lambert of Carrow Road, off they go, bells ringing and smiles a wide as the road they travel!
These fellows were lost. Lost and foreign but delightful in their bemused enjoyment of thousands of Norfolk folk in their revelry.
The message was clear, come footballing success, come large plastic banners with the club's motto.
I spent a large part of the festivities in an ancient churchyard, the view was awful but the noise and atmosphere was real enough. I was also amused by rowdy teenagers letting loose in the sacred space. Then again, if Jesus were around in Norwich he would be enjoying this (or kicking us all out of 'the temple' for being sacriligeous, your call).
Flags and crowds abound.
The other side of St Peter Mancroft's yard.
Soon I was joined by a friend working in the city. Following the disappearance of aforementioned 'yoofs' we moved a few feet away from my initial perch and found our view much enhanced. City Hall, a 1930s masterpiece. OK, a massive block admired by Hitler (he ordered the Luftwaffe to avoid bombing it during WWII so that he could take the salute from it's balcony following a German victory).
The flag flies over City Hall.
More flags, more people taking pictures.
The Lord Mayor was greeted with the traditional football call to recognition "WHOAREYAH????" My companion was concerned about such disrespect "I voted in the referendum" he pointed out.
The banter, shouting and jollity continued for an hour or so.
Then, following mildy slurred words and an expletive from Delia we all trooped over the Forum to wait for the bus.
Theatre Street. Waiting. Architecture geek moment. Look at the 14th century church on the right. Everything else is postwar. This area of Norwich was flattened in 1942.
Looking the other way, still waiting. The kids in the bottom right of this picture (with the flag) were mucking about and must have stood on my foot about three times. I didn't mind.
Then, slowly, down the street, a bus full of drunk footballers!
YESSSSSSSSSSS!!
The real deal, this is why we are here! A bunch of great looking, young, tremendously rich blokes with incredibly hot wives and girlfriends who play football for a living get to ride a Double decker bus through the city!
And then they pass.
And so it's off to the pub.

I must have taken about 100 pictures last night. I sat on the train home, folk around me singing the songs and messing about. Me? I was a bit wobbly after a few pints and some bangers and mash with some friends. I sat there deleting the very many blurred shots and pictures of the back of strangers heads. I hope they tell something of a fun night to celebrate a brilliant season.

Gawd Bless'em!

2011-04-29T19:39:00.003+01:00

The Royal Wedding!

You don't need to scratch too far around here to discover that the vast majority of folk spend the vast majority of their time and energy on things other than the Royal Family.

However, we were given a day off.

Some of my favourite pictures from a long and busy day.

During an early morning stroll I took some pictures of details around the town. I loved these little flags on the fence.
Proper bunting. Handmade, triangular, criss-crossing the street. Proper bunting. My heart sang!

I love this shot. We helped host a party for the kids, Henry spent most of the time hairing about and eating. From time to time he was transfixed by the coverage, especially of the soldiers and horses.

Even this republican took the day off and enjoyed the spectacle!

evolution

2011-04-06T11:55:00.002+01:00

Take a close look at this kid's homework.

The Beeb.

2011-03-04T19:42:00.003Z

Some photos from our day at the BBC studios.

The kids had been involved in a film making project, they spent the day editing and making links.

Bowsprite

2011-02-26T18:52:00.001Z

Check out the blog. I love the sketches.

God bless the BBC

2011-02-21T20:49:00.003Z

1. Last night in the pub, talking about things that make us proud of being British (clue- NOT the royal family).
The BBC, in all it's forms and for all it's faults.

2. Acknowledging that the BBC is a liberal middle class conspiracy, but still loving it anyway, indeed, loving it more.

3. Returning some borrowed equipment to it's local office today. Could they have been any nicer? They even offered me food! They showed me their new setup. If I hadn't had the family in the car outside I could have happily been in there all afternoon!

We allow them into our homes everyday, couldn't happen to a nice media corporation.

Bliss

2011-01-22T19:53:00.001Z

Cooking.
Listening to a superb Billy Bragg interview on 6music.
Drinking beer.
FRD tolerating my tuneless renditions.

TV

2011-01-17T20:39:00.002Z

It's OK to piss about on the computer while Frau Random Doubt watches Glee.
It's OK to blog, Facebook, wikileak, ConservativeHome and all the rest.

That's because it's just two forms of cultural oblivion colliding with each other and both coming off best.

Or maybe that's a draw.

Either way it's all good.

America!

2011-01-05T21:19:00.003Z

My new topic at school is 'America'

I've twisted the curriculum around a bit to focus on the earliest Americans and then the Civil War. After half term the kids will be able to choose any American theme to study as a mini topic.

I began the topic by asking the class to note down what they knew about America.

Canadians do not like being confused with Americans.
9/11
President Obama.
They don't have a Queen.
Statue of Liberty.
Civil rights movement.
Grand Canyon.
Big portions.
Las vegas.
They were the only country to drop an atomic bomb.
Baseball and other strange sports.
War of Independence.
The stars and stripes.
There is a town called Springfield.
Vietnam beat them in a war.
A big army but not that good at winning against small countries.
They were involved in D Day.
Cowboys.

6music

2010-12-13T21:46:00.002Z

I've loved 6music since first I heard it back in 2007.

I even wrote to my MP when the station was threatened with closure in 2009 (he wrote back in a favourable but non committal sort of way, unsurprising for a politician, surprising for a tory)

Over the weekend I thought to myself "this station needs to play some Juliana Hatfield, that's what I need right now" .

Tonight, loading the dishwasher.

The Juliana Hatfield Three!

Wymondham Abbey

2010-12-11T20:01:00.005Z

I've always been fortunate to live in places that inspire.
Wherever I have lived there has been somewhere that I can go to to lift the soul.
Wymondham is full of such nooks and crannies, although I would hardly classify the 900 year old abbey as either a 'nook' or a 'crannie'.
For your pleasure, a December Saturday afternoon running around the grounds.

Looking south over the sheep meadow. The remains of the Abbey prior to the dissolution in 1538 are visible as lumps in the meadow.
Hen sitting on top of some of Henry VIII's rubble.
The ruined East tower.
ASBO behaviour, 1754 style.
The East tower from within.
Doorway, East tower.
East Tower.
Hen inside East Tower.
The Arch, looking over towards the sheep meadow.

Uncle Bill

2010-12-08T23:30:00.002Z

Billy Bragg and I have previous. Lots of previous.

I'll go into that later because tonight, tonight in the ice and the snow and sudden mid gig queasiness about the difficult journey home I fell in love with Billy Bragg. Fell in love all over again.
I stood in the middle, twenty feet from the front, surrounded by other greying, bellied fans. Intermingled were the newer cohorts of fans but for the most part the audience reflected the main attraction, middle aged, self depreciatory and curious.
I wasn't beering it up and there was no smoke, it was my first HD gig.

Twenty years ago I had been at the same gig in another part of town and had listened to Billy rail against nostalgia. He had no time for it, the struggle had to move onwards, not back. Therefore he was not going to play any of the old stuff. That , along with every album after 'Workers Playtime' and up to 'Mermaid Avenue' put Billy on the back burner. I was 18 and he was singing about the difficulties involved with getting a decent babysitter.

Times change. Tonight I got a decent babysitter and drove the car to the University and watched Billy rail through his classic back catalogue. I don't think it's nostalgia, I think he has understood that he's an entertainer and that we want to be entertained, entertained by some of the most wonderful, lyrical, rock and roll of the past 30 years. We were also entertained and provoked by his observations, the banter and the two drunken extremists who started a fight in the corner and got thrown out. This would not have been relevant had it not been right at the front and the security men taken a long and somewhat heavy handed approach to the whole proceedings. It was almost like a piece of tourism form the 1980s.

A wonderful night, just what the soul had been asking for. Just what the ears needed.

Notes from the bunker

2010-11-20T22:12:00.004Z

I'm still dusting off the debris of the last few months.

It is late and wine has been consumed, not always a recipe for good blogging, however I am in love with the genre again, especially as it has now been overtaken by about twelve other developments in the great race to remain up to date.

Here are a few of the things that have been rolling about in my mind.

What is the Pope up to?

How long will the coalition government last?

Will the Liberal Democrats take the kicking they deserve at the next election?

Have I returned all those library books?

Should I feel guilty about secretly feeling good about demonstrators smashing up Tory party HQ? (OF COURSE, I'm not condoning dropping fire extinguishers from tall buildings)

What's more important? Washing or sleep?

Why am I not missing TV?

The cloth of kings

2010-11-15T19:11:00.004Z

I'm slowly emerging from the bunker.
The bunker that was suddenly becoming the father of three.
The bunker that was moving house and saying goodbye to the neighbour from hell.
The bunker that is work.
The bunker that is life at the start of the twenty first century.

2011 will be a big year for corduroy. At a rough guess there will be at least four official days of cord.

1/1/11
11/1/11
1/11/11
11/11/11

That last one will be the biggie. It only comes along once in 100 years. Trouble is, one always has to be a bit respectful of Armistice day, that's why I'm excited about the other three.

No 10

2010-10-07T22:28:00.003+01:00

We've finally moved!
It has taken us over a year.
A year of the slowest housing market in a generation, a market that is continuing to decline.
But we did it!

No 10!

And we didn't even need to win an election!

Ed

2010-09-26T20:39:00.003+01:00

For a moment I thought that he had been born in the 1970s.
For a moment I thought that the political world had found it's first major player born in the 1970s.
For a moment I thought that the moment in my own life had come, That moment when the political world catches up with you, when you are no longer young. The sporting world passed me by when Michael Owen debuted for England, I knew I would never play for my country.

Then I looked more closely and learned that he was born in the 1960s (just!)
He is younger than my brother (he's younger than his own brother)
My generation?

Keep buggering on...

2010-09-26T20:31:00.003+01:00

There is a lot going on.
I have read some books and will write about them soon.
There will be huge announcements within the week.
It is my sincere hope that things will soon be changing for the better, the very much better.
Things will be happening on all three blogs.

Bear with me, watch this space.

Memories

2010-07-15T20:13:00.003+01:00

It's 70 years since the Battle of Britain, our finest hour.

With this in mind I decided to grab my nearest old fella and place him in front of my class to tell tales and answer questions.
His lovely wife came along because, in her words "I was there too".

My new class sat for over an hour and listened to their memories, tales of air raids and blackouts. Mr and Mrs 'B' seemed to enjoy it and the kids were hooked.

Some highlights...

Where you scared?

"Absolutely!"

How did you feel when war was declared?

"Awful, just awful. Depressed, angry but resigned to get the job done"

Was everyone as cheerful as we are told?

"No, but everyone worked together and got on with things, we talked alot and helped each other because otherwise people would fall apart, and some people did fall apart and some people were unkind about them"

Did you like Winston Churchill?

"My family were NOT Conservatives, we did NOT like Churchill"

"Yes dear but he did do an awful lot to help us win the war"

"That's true, I suppose"

Was it easy to beat the Germans?

"We only just beat them, we survived the summer of 1940 because the Germans made bad mistakes and we were lucky"

Would you like a cup of tea?

"One thing everyone who lived through those years will tell you, you never turn down a cup of tea!"

Time?

2010-07-09T19:20:00.001+01:00

Time consuming.

Michael
Hen
Daniel
FRD
work
heat
house
living every thrilling minute.

repeat to fade.

I'll recapture the blog soon, I still believe.

BRING IT!

2010-06-23T21:49:00.002+01:00

Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!
Sunday. The Germans!

I am very, very, very excited!

It's here.

2010-06-10T21:20:00.002+01:00

Phew,
Blogging has been slow of late and I'm sorry.
OFSTED came and went (and went away happy!)
Both twins visited the hospital and both came home ok.

And of course, Fabio's boys take on the USA on Saturday!
One golden month of footy!

I can't bear the suspense!

Electoral strategy

2010-05-06T23:00:00.002+01:00

OK, looking like a hung parliament.
High turnout turning the count into a slow one.
Twin babies asleep upstairs.

I'm going to turn in, if the exit polls are to be believed, it's not the next couple of hours that will prove interesting but the next couple of days. By the time I wake at 5.30am the results will still be coming in and deals being struck.

Sshhhh...

2010-05-06T19:47:00.002+01:00

I wasn't here in 2005.
I'd forgotten about the beautiful silence that engulfs a British General election day.

All campaigning must halt as polls open at 7am.

All media outlets turn to alternative topics (a lengthy interview with Sir Paul MacCartney about vegetarianism was my favourite)as they are barred from mentioning the obvious.

It's a magisterial calm.

At 10pm the polls will close and then.

BANG!

Hours of results and punditry, interviews, arguments, analysis and post mortem.

I love it!

Decision time

2010-05-05T20:47:00.003+01:00

Ok, tomorrow is the General Election.

What to do?

I'm a bit confused.

For several reasons.

Actually I'm a bit confused for one main reason and it's nothing to do with a posh bloke called Dave.
For the past 37 years I have either lived in, or been emotionally connected to, a delightful area called 'South Norfolk'. It's been tory since 1950 so it's not even a political attachment. I've always enjoyed throwing my Labour or Lib Dem vote into the opposing wind of toriness. But more than that, I just love being from, and right now living in, SOUTH Norfolk.
I know who my MP is, I know he's going to be my MP until he dies. He even knows who I am, in a very small, met him twice, wrote to him once, sort of a way.

South Norfolk is my kind of place.

Well all that has changed since some gerrymandering civil servants decided that I wasn't 'south' enough and that my entire town should be moved into a new constituency called 'Mid Norfolk'. A bunch of candidates I don't know, a playing field I'm unfamiliar with, lumped in with other, lesser market towns such as Watton and Dereham?
I looked online to find out about tactical voting. MId Norfolk did not even register on the site. I thought South Norfolk was a tory stronghold, Mid Norfolk is bluer than the disinfectant in Sam-Cam's downstairs loo!

Another reason to be mildly perplexed (and this carries on from the new constituency rant) is that I'm not sure how best to use my vote.

Should I vote Labour?

Surely their time is up?
Surely Brown has blown it?
Surely time to get over my emotional attachment to Clement Atlee And Nye Bevan?

but... What about the economy? I actually think things might have been alot worse with somebody else in charge and have half a mind to think that they might be the best to keep things slowly improving.

Should I vote LIb Dem?

Done this before, it seems like their time, would be great to boost their national percentage and give them more credibility with the other two parties, or even put them into second place. Electoral reform is needed. Clegg's wife is yummilicious.

but... the euro?

Should I vote Green?

I cant help wonder if Green is the new Labour? A fledgling movement tackling the crucial issues of the day. Difficult decisions will require a radical, progressive approach.

but... can't help feeling that the LIb Dems need my vote more, perhaps I'll vote Green next time.

Interesting times

2010-04-07T14:28:00.003+01:00

These aren't such bad days for your everyday political junkie/footy fan.

It's looking like being a rather sharp election with Brown using all his dark powers to grimly cling to power whilst young Harry Potter tries all manner of spells and tricks to convince us he's for real. It's only 36 hours old but I'm already enjoying this election, especially the way they all talk about stuff that we've known about for months and try to make it fun.

My prediction? Slight tory majority. 6-20 seats.
Out of this world insanity would be for Brown to cling on with a similar size rump, could happen, perhaps.
It looks like being a poisoned chalice with all the cuts looming.

A few weeks after the 6th of May we move south to South Africa!
Need I say more?

My prediction?
England reach the semis (AT LEAST)

24th of March 1985

2010-03-23T21:45:00.001Z

Michael and Daniel

2010-03-02T22:53:00.004Z

Well beggar me if we ain't just had twins!

A highly civilised day of childbirth courtesy of the Norfolk and Norwich University Trust Hospital.
Everyone we encountered was friendly and professional, the operating theatre was lit by the first sun of spring and filled with laughter and cheers. I only wish all entries into the world could be so down to earth and humane. It was an honour to be in the room. Yet another moment to feel proud of the NHS, quietly made me worry about my old friends in the states (SORT IT OUT!!!!)

OK, politics aside, enjoy the moment. Mommy and her babies are in hospital being taken care of, I'm home with the original Lil'un who is now coming to terms with being a big brother! this is the easy bit, they'll be coming home in a day or two!!!!

D-Day minus three.

2010-02-27T21:55:00.006Z

The big day is very, very near.

A part of us has no idea what is about to hit us.

Persuasion and voting habits.

2010-02-23T21:29:00.003Z

Today we looked at persuasion and how people can be persuaded to vote for specific groups or ideas.

Three groups (Purple, Brown and Green) had different ideas for running the school.

The purple group wanted to start early in the morning and finish by lunch. There would be compulsory sports clubs after lunch.

The brown group wanted to slightly alter the length of the day, shorten some breaks but offer a wide range of cross cultural pursuits in an extensive afterschool programme.

The green group would keep the school day as it is, offer more trips and employ excellent teachers.

I consciously avoided words such as 'parties' or 'election' and a class discussion followed about the merits of the various groups.

After a few minutes we held a quick vote, an opinion poll.

The purples were clear leaders, the browns were next with a tiny minority of children voting for the greens.

Pointing out to the class that this was just an excercise, I then amended some of the group's published ideas. The purple group promised greater choice at lunch, the brown group (second in the poll) offered a one hour breaktime in the middle of the day and the green group proposed to abolish all homework except for the Year Six kids taking exams.

The class went into a mild frenzy. "Can I change my vote?" "What?" "ONE HOUR BREAK??YEAH!"

I assured them that it was just an opinion poll and yes, votes, opinions and minds could be changed. Another fantastic discussion took place.

Another straw poll and then I asked the class.

"The Leader of the brown group is a bully, would you still vote brown?"

"Even if he was a bully, he wouldn't bully kids"

"Sometimes you have to be a bit of a bully to get stuff done"

A heated debate but the upshot was a completely unchanged total for the browns.

"OK, how about this? 10 years ago on an exotic holiday, the leader of the purple group ate dog soup. Would you still vote purple knowing that the leader is a one time dog eater?"

Fury soon gave way to comments such as "It was 10 years ago" and "What does his diet have to do with running the school?"

"The leader of the green group has been married seven times"

"Was he horrible to his wives or did they die?"

"Loads of people get divorced"

A half hour of fantastic, open minded, open hearted political debate with some of the best 10 and 11 year olds around.

Lasagne!

2010-02-20T22:16:00.004Z

Who the hell doesn't love lasagne?

Especially lasagne made by a drunk bloke?

Especially when it's then thrown in the freezer for a month or two to be baked and consumed amidst babies and nappies and stuff?

Please enjoy the very small photo essay about my Saturday night.

End times

2010-02-14T20:44:00.002Z

Things might be a touch slow around here, we've entered the final phase of the pregnancy and are within days, all being well, of a couple of new arrivals.
Watch this space!

Neighbourhood watch

2010-01-23T20:10:00.002Z

Has my nextdoor neighbour just been arrested?

Watch this space (cos I sure as hell am!!)

Book Learning-THE BLOG!

2010-01-21T19:55:00.002Z

Right, deep breath.

I've been reviewing my reading for four years, making notes, slapdash comments or simply rattling down whatever tiredness, level of engagement or time and emotion will allow.

Following an enforced spell in solitary confinement whilst I get over swine flu (for real!) I've been able to move the library or 'reviews' onto their own blog.

Catalogued by author and in chronological order, you can now find details of every book I have read and completed since January 2006. Unfortunately I was not patient enough to bring the comments over, they still exist, alongside the original reviews in the archives of TRDOWM. All future 'Book learning' posts will appear directly on the new'ish' blog. Hope some of you might find it interesting.

Book learning 59

2010-01-21T09:21:00.007Z

The Great Silence 1918-1920. Living in the shadow of the Great War. By Juliet Nicolson

I'm not sure if my childhood obsession with World War One has ever really been too prominent in this blog. It's the historical obsession that predated the historical obsession with American history. Between the age of 11 and 17 it was all about the Schlieffen plan, Passschendaele, Zeppelins, President Wilson's 12 points (oh? Do you see a link?)

Cut to 2010 and the pile of books delivered by Santa.

This surprisingly accessible read deals with the zeitgiest of the two years immediately following the November armistice in 1918, as such, it's primary concern is grief. The book follows the seasons as the nation tries to come to terms with the apocalyptic loss of the previous four years. Along with the extremely traumatic side of things such as severely disabled veterans, early forays into plastic surgery and the various coping mechanisms of the bereaved the book also looks at elements of popular culture, the mood of the people, industrial relations and the decisions behind some of the iconic monuments commemorating the loss of the Great War (The Cenotaph, The Unknown soldier). Throw all this together and it makes for a powerful and absorbing read.

I began reading this in the full flush of health, then I got a hefty dose of swine flu. I couldn't read or do anything for a few days and when I did eventually sit up in bed I wasn't so sure that I wanted to be reading about the effects of Spanish flu, however the time did allow me to really get into the book in a way that's just not possible when you grab twenty minutes before bedtime. Having said all that, I would not recommend swine flu as an aid to reading.

It was the human angle that came through strongest, the book was based largely on anecdotes or diaries and the emotions people experienced were refreshingly honest, some thought the idea of a ' tomb of the unknown warrior' insincere or disrespectful, children were creeped out by disfigured veterans, young women who just wanted everyone to get over it. A good insight into a lost age and not without lessons for our own times.

Book learning #58

2010-01-14T20:07:00.003Z

Blue Blood by Edward Conlon.

The first of the Christmas books bites the dust.

A pacey first 350 pages which stalled abit after that, became a bit repetitive. I still thoroughly enjoyed it even if I did flick a bit towards the end. The most enjoyable parts were the history of the NYPD and the folklore angle.

At various parts of this, I felt homesick for the old place.

I'm gonna pass this onto a good old friend.

Snow Days!!

2010-01-08T12:07:00.004Z

Snow days? Just the best aren't they?

A day snatched from the grasp of The Man, a day when you can eat a little more and do bizarre things like baking and building snowmen.

A day when even your grumpy neighbour can raise a smile (before he takes a tumble and breaks a hip)

And what's better than one stolen, beautiful snowday?

TWO beautiful, stolen snowdays!

As well as the above, it should be noted that the year had hardly begun, up to date with work and planning and stuff. This meant that I was able to enjoy both days (and the weekend) without a single worry about things I should be doing!

And please, no cheeky comments from Americans "Call that snow?" etc. We know, Frau Random Doubt (lately of R.I. and Kings County, NYC) pointed out "This is real snow".

2010

2010-01-01T19:10:00.001Z

So what is this?

The Teenies?

Anyway, today I realised that I have a big thing in common with David Cameron.

I also want to be in a new house by the end of this year.

Book learning #57

2009-12-22T19:50:00.005Z

Lincoln's melancholy by Joshua Wolf Shenk

This is a Presidential biography, not a textbook on depression. I picked it up (almost three years ago) as a presidential biography, enjoyed that part and also enjoyed the mental health part.

As mentioned, it's taken me almost three years to finish this. A transatlantic move can do that. A transatlantic move and a missing book, a missing book that is then picked up again in between some others.

Despite the logistical struggle to read and finish, I thoroughly enjoyed this account of Lincoln's life, work and mental health. The contrasts between the fabulously gothic nineteenth century approach to the mind and the more clinical twentieth/twenty first century treatment of depression was illuminating. The accounts of Lincoln's own depression and struggles centered the work in a way that a more straightforward narrative about depression would probably not. In short, I learned a bit about depression that I would not have done otherwise. I also learned a bit about Lincoln.

I absolutely loved the gothic tone, found the overview of Lincoln's career fascinating and was completely absorbed by the Civil War chapters ( LIke so many, this was the Lincoln I first learned about). This book (or at least the final couple of chapters that I've just polished off prior to a few new arrivals on the 25th) perfectly fitted my present mood, the dark winter nights, the bitter cold, the American gothic Victoriana. Wonderful stuff.

Book learning #56

2009-12-19T21:15:00.004Z

The secret history of the IRA by Ed Moloney.

I've always been interested in Irish history, always felt that republicanism made sense. Reading this didn't change anything in particular, didn't cast any new light on the main events as they were often passed over with a glance. This was not a chronological account of the last 40 years. The real story here was the internal politics of the IRA since 1969 and the dealings of a certain Gerry Adams in taking over the organisation and heading it into a peace process that continues to this day.

In some respects it read like the Sopranos, just not as nice. There were aspects of the story that baffled me, no mention of the Brighton Bomb of 1984. The Birmingham 6 and Guildford 4 were never mentioned (although the Balcombe Street gang, who one can assume had a hand in the bombings were on a number of occaisions) and many of the attrocities were quickly passed over. Reading on, you began to understand, this was not about a list of bombings and murder but how the IRA leadership dealt with it's continual internal feuding, negotiating and violent games. Still, the last split, which created the Real IRA was detailed, their most notorious action, the 1998 Omagh bombing was not.

The political side of it was fascinating, the posturing on all sides, the deals with Libya, the global angle, the role of the Catholic church and also seeing how the situation changed over the years from civil rights marches in the late 60s through the terror of the 70s into the stalemate and near defeat of the IRA in the 80s.

I enjoyed this, absorbing once I got beyond some of the annoying omissions.

Christmas gifts

2009-12-17T20:23:00.003Z

Ah, Christmas in a primary school. Gifts a plenty, Just check out a couple of examples from this year's haul.

The thoughtful, considerate English girl who appreciates that Christmas is about Jesus but also that one should not neglect the sophisticated palate.

OR

The fantastically Kochmanesque American kid who gets it. He just gets it.

The kite

2009-11-19T20:11:00.003Z

The wind blasted the south. The last of the autumn leaves scattered to the four winds, scattered in an extremely fast and violent manner.

The man found a few stolen hours in the middle of a week, he found a glorious blue sky and a kite.

When you fly a kite you look skywards, the crick in your neck feels like hope, nobody can fly a kite by looking at the ground.

When you fly a kite you have to negotiate with the wind, the very strong wind. The sort of day that many people would rather be inside out of the blastzone finds you hanging onto your kite as it wheels and dives and climbs and hovers. You negotiate, you try to negotiate, but you know all too well that the wind will always have you. Have you and beat you.

The man found a field, nothing too special, on the edge of town, but once the kite was airborne, the place was transformed.

Dog walkers hurried past, picking up their shit, saying hello and letting their animals sniff each other's backsides.

Some of them noticed the kite, some of them may have thought "What a wanker, flying a kite". Some of them may have thought "Wow, a kite, I haven't seen a kite in years." They look skyward for a moment, then they return to picking up shit.

It was a stolen moment, those are the best.

Identity

2009-11-14T21:25:00.003Z

Thanks to Greg and Kris and AWS for posting responses to my writing project about identity.
It’s only fair that I indulge you with my view on the subject.

Where to begin?

There are so many aspects to an identity, so many experiences that it’s hard to know.
It’s also virtually impossible to fill out every part of it, not even the most thorough autobiography can give that much, nothing can give the detail in the way that just being yourself over a number of years can. Add to this the fact that there are parts of one’s identity that would best not be shared over the airwaves! There are a number of paths I could tread.

The geographical?

Living a really good (wind assisted) stones throw from the house I was born in, after less than half a lifetime away, first in a West Country university town and then abroad, in Brooklyn. I suspect the fact that I am still a passionate believer in Brooklyn over New York City says something about me, I also suspect that the fact that I am a passionate believer in Norfolk over the rest of the United Kingdom also tells more than I would perhaps wish.

The spiritual?

Not a church going man, I’m with Clement Atlee on this (and on so many other things too) “Like the idea but I can live without the mumbo jumbo” I’m also not bothered about other religions either, sure they have their merits (and don’t doubt that I’ve looked into this, I have. Like a lot of good atheists, I’ve studied hard and taken years to get where I am today, I also appreciate that I might not be where I am today, tomorrow). Let's keep our ideas about beauty and faith and try not to pervert the ideas of others, I believe in humanity, I love trees and am probably happiest on a beach with my family or flying a kite in really strong winds (or sometimes both!) That’s how I feel close to any god.

The personal?

Sure, I’ve lived an amusing life and have slowed down enough to find a gorgeous wife and raise a cute son, we’ve two more on the way so things are busy but in a great way. I’ve joined the ranks of the permanently tired/holding down a good job/getting by brigade, And you know what? I love it!

Vocational?

I get up each morning and most days I look forward to what I have to do. I try to do well in any job I’m given. Apart from my current career I think removals man was the best. Sitting in a big van, traveling the country, no two days the same, clear, achievable success criteria and bacon sarnies.

Political?

No Pasaran! They shall not pass. If we all come together we can defeat fascism and hate. Come on people, how about it? I’ve got tonnes of ideas about solving problems but most of them involve society making some firm rules and the individual making material sacrifices. I can’t see how my ideal state would come into existence without some type of leftist secret police, perhaps child informers. I would love to return to one moment in time and remove forever the chance for the internal combustion engine to be developed. I’d love us all to use horse and cart and bicycles and sailing boats and steam trains and yet I like nice stuff and 21st century perks. I vote because if you don’t vote you're not involved. I despair of the politics of hate and fear. It's with sadness that I’ll not mourn the passing of this current government, no matter the affection I feel for our beleaguered Prime minister, but I’ll despair at the arrival of the next lot. I like Billy Bragg,

Cultural?

Books, Books, Books. The written word is king, the musical note is prince. Put them both together and I’m a happy man. Put them both together in place where I can hear them live and I’m in a delightful state. Some of my favourite memories are of a few friends picking up guitars in the open air and singing and playing. Of course there’s always footy. All sports pale by comparison, its "city till I die" for me old chum (then a dose of baseball I picked up whilst in Brooklyn, Go Mets!) I also love the open air, sailing and when it’s too windy for that I try and find a way to fly a kite.

National?

Sure, I’m a Norfolk man through and through, then an Englishman. Married to a Rhode Island girl with our son born a few blocks from where the Dodgers used to play before they went west. In my quiet moments in Brooklyn I thought of myself as a Norfolk-American, perhaps I still do.

I’m also really tall, I like that.

Coffee, not tea.

Beer over wine but wine over nothing!

Toast is very important.

I love radio, possibly more than telly.

I feel like I could write about this stuff for a very long time and still not quite get to the bottom of where my identity lies, As I said at the top, it’s such a brilliantly complicated thing. If I were to be thought of as anything, I’d like to be thought of as an optimist. I believe in the power of people, individuals or groups, to do amazing things. Take a moment to think about your life and the things that you have overcome, we’ve all been through some crazy stuff. Did we achieve by getting angry, bitter and fuelled by hate? No. Whatever we did, we did because we worked hard and worked alongside some other people to reach the goal. That’s the sort of thing I like.

The full english

2009-11-12T20:55:00.003Z

Last weekend I spent a lot of money (almost a tenner!!!) on a full english.

It was, OK. I suppose. Sort of.

This morning I spent 3.75 at a leading supermarket cafe.

Bloody delicious!

Look, don't mess about with mushrooms, poncy bread and wierd trendy stuff, give me thick white sliced buttered toast, beans, two sausages, two bacon, one egg, black pudding and lots of tea. Thank you.

The lady who brought it to me ( in under 10 minutes) apologised for the delay (What delay??) " Sorry that's taken so long, my toast has been rubbish today" I loved this, so english!

I hope nobody minds.

2009-11-03T20:28:00.002Z

We've decided to break with the tradition of sending Christmas cards.

1. How many trees do we really need to chop down for this?

2. The postal strike?

3. It takes ages to write them out (and they must be handwritten).

4. We love you all anyway, just feel the love!

Group writing project update.

2009-10-30T21:57:00.003Z

A few days ago I put out a hook about identity.

I got a couple of responses, Greg and Kris writes about his diverse American upbringing and his roots on the west coast.

The wobbly spaghetti lady writes a heartening piece about the epedemic that is Facebook.

Thank you both for your thoughts and the time you took to write.

I'm still thinking on my response.

kite

2009-10-29T20:23:00.002Z

1. You spend a very windy day at the beach flying a kite.

2. You remember how brilliant kite flying is, go online, do some research and buy an entry level stunt kite.

3. It arrives, defying the postal strike.

4. Where's the bloody wind?

Democracy in action

2009-10-14T20:36:00.003+01:00

This evening, through a mixture of circumstance and someone else's bad luck and ill health, I was quietly thrust into a position of quite large responsibility.

For about 45 minutes all eyes were upon me. It was my job, as Senior Teacher and representative of the school, to publicly count the votes for the Board of Governors election. Two positons, Four candidates (one an incumbent).

If you'd have told me beforehand, I'd have said something along the lines of "no hassle!"

Stand in front of a silent, scrutineery room and count votes.

Then announce the results.

Without smiling.

Even though you really, REALLY, want to!

I actually felt very proud.

Group writing project

2009-10-07T21:12:00.005+01:00

From time to time, blogs such as Tillerman invite readers to contribute by way of Group writing projects.

Here's mine.

Today I was on a bus full of kids from my school. It's a small village school with a great sense of community and a good identity. We have a catchy, unusual nickname and lots of people all around know us by that. Many of the kids live in the village, a few others live very nearby.

Some of the kids started singing the old school trip/football ground favourite "Shall we tell them?"

"Shall we tell them?
Shall we tell them?

Who we are?
Who we are?

We are -insert name of neighbourhood/village/town/city/nation etc here
We are -insert name of neighbourhood/village/town/city/nation etc here

Mighty, mighty -insert name of neighbourhood/village/town/city/nation etc here"

So you can see, the journey was noisy and fun, along with the farting noises and punching between the seats we had a good time.

The thing that intruiged me, and got me thinking about this post was this.

Every time the kids got to the bit "We are......" They responded with a variety of different places. Twentyfive kids on the bus and about half of them identified with some other place. Such vocal identifications then sparked internecine yelling with other kids who 'hated' that particular place. Most kids chose a bunch of places for some good reasons (oh yes, we heard all the logical and not so logical arguments) and then it got silly (it always does, and then there are tears).

I began thinking about identity and rivalry. How even in a school that is a tight and friendly community this banter still exists, is alive and kicking. It made me smile.

I got to thinking about my own identity.

Multiple identities.
Conflicting identities.

And the rivalries that exist alongside those identities.

OK. Bear with me.

I want to hear about an aspect of your cultural identity and to counterpoint that, an aspect of the rivalry with another group that surely must, by definition, exist alongside it.

It might be anything, A city fan writing about United, A Tory writing about Labour. A boy writing about a girl. The subject warrants some discussion, well I think so anyway.

If you feel so inclined, blog it, but please drop me a line so I can read them.

Thanks.

Betting

2009-10-06T20:45:00.002+01:00

OK, here's the deal.

On October 27th we should be finding out the gender of the twins.

We are still hoping for two happy, healthy babies and are only finding out genders in order to aid forward planning.

So... PLACE YOUR BETS!!

Boy/Boy 7-1

Boy/Girl 2-1 fav

Girl/Girl 4-1 (call it a hunch)

OK. Tell me what you think!

Be kind

2009-10-02T21:20:00.001+01:00

That's all I want to say.

Book learning #55

2009-09-28T20:53:00.004+01:00

The Lion and the Unicorn; Socialism and the English Genius by George Orwell.

If it's autumn, it's Orwell. This particular book is an old favourite, one of the very few books that I can reread.

Anyone interested in English society, culture, politics and history (or any one of the aforementioned) should read this book.

It's Orwell's 'why we fight', his perspective on the England of 1940, what's worth fighting for and what should be swept away at the next possible opportunity. I've been fascinated by it since I first read it over twenty years ago and whilst aspects of it are clearly dated, enough of it still makes sense when thinking about modern Britain (Orwell, the consumate Englishman, never refers to Britain throughout the book).

One of the things I appreciate about Orwell, which comes through in this book, is his own pragmatic approach to socialism and patriotism, the two are compatible and should be regarded alongside each other. He decries the right's ability to hijack patriotic feelings in order to pursue capitalist economic policies.

I could go on.

I have recommended this book to people (my wife included) who have looked upon the UK from the outside, some of them read it, appreciated it, but for others it seemed to not quite give them what they were looking for, then I realised, the audience Orwell was aiming for was the English working classes/reading classes of the 1940s. It's not a guidebook in that sense.

This book still means something to me as someone who cares deeply about the cultural, economic and political future of the UK, less of a naked patriot than I used to be (except when the World Cup rolls along) but still in love with the old girl all the same.

Don't ever say trying to renew your car insurance isn't fun or exciting.

2009-09-21T19:19:00.003+01:00

I call the original insurance company after having spectacularly dumped them following a dalliance with an internet bargain site.

"Hi, I er, cancelled my policy and incurred a tonne of charges on Saturday. Any chance I can restore my original policy, get a refund on the charges and continue cover on my new vehicle like nothing ever happened?"

Insurance lady "Let's see"

Me " It's nothing personal"

IL "Oh, I'm taking this personally, I'm so upset right now that I'll go home tonight and cry and cry and then I'll drink a bottle of wine or three and then perhaps do something stupid like kill myself. I'm that upset and it'll be your fault".

She actually said that.

She proceeds to go over my details, my wife's details and certain aspects of our personal life.

IL "Right, you want to transfer from a Peugeot 106 to a Vauxhall Zafira?"

Me "Yeah, we're expecting twins"

IL "Umm, That would be fun in a 106"

Me "Yeah, hence the upgrade to the Zafira" (DUUUH!!)

IL " I see it's your wife's birthday soon, that's nice"

Me "Yep, better get her something nice"

IL "Diamonds".

Me "I'm haggling for cheaper car insurance, I used to drive an old Peugeot and you think I can afford diamonds?"

IL " Call it a woman's instinct, she'll love them"

Me " No way! Not now"

IL "Find a way"

Needless to say I was right to flirt with the internet, even following the charges and fees for breaking a contract I still ended up a tenner better off.

Buy my house

2009-09-20T20:41:00.001+01:00

Wanna own the home of a blogging legend?

Book learning #54

2009-09-18T21:43:00.004+01:00

Paris, THe secret history. Andrew Hussey.

Well, This just adds another brick in my tower of admiration for the world of public libraries.

In a state of literary ennui, I was browsing the shelves of the local (and quite fantastic) local library when I came across this. It came home with me. I liked it.

Beginning with the prehistoric stuff and moving through the Romano-Gaulish history (most of which I learned from Asterix and was delighted to discover from a real book that so much of what Asterix had taught me was true) and moving through some disgusting medieval developments, sketchy seventeenth century intruigue, the great French Kings, the 1789 revolution, Napoleon, Commune, World Wars and 1968.

Thoroughly readable, entertaining and really, very sexy, this was a good read. I've known Paris down the years, after New York , London and Norwich* it must be my favourite city.

*Favourite cities. In order.

1.New York
2.Brooklyn (keeping the dream alive!)
3.Norwich
4.Bath
5.Bristol
6.Liverpool
7.Paris (OK, I misjudged this a bit)
8.Boston**
9.Philadelphia
10. Washington DC**

**Based on limited experience and OCD American history fixes.

West Runton

2009-09-12T21:39:00.002+01:00

Norfolk has a delightful and reasonably varied coastline. From my house you can get to dozens of beaches with different characters within an hours drive. This evening my dad, Henry and I drove up to West Runton, between Sheringham and Cromer. A car park, one of the world's friendliest teashops and a gorgeous beach. the weather was perfect, we were in heaven.

To the left of the groyne is the chalk beach, full of amazing chalk rockpools.

East, towards Sheringham, Wells and Holkham.

The silhouette is my dad.

9/11

2009-09-11T20:06:00.002+01:00

I wasn't there that day. My wife was.

She doesn't often talk about it.

In my family we have traditions around grief and loss, some of them make sense, some of them not so much. In the conventional world it seems appropriate to recall the first, fifth, tenth anniversaries and so on, to say the right things and lay the wreaths in the correct places. In my self it makes sense to cry when it feels right, to hug when it's needed, to laugh when things are funny and so on. I was always told that those in grief need support and memories long after the funeral, in the days and months after the mourners have left, that's when my mum would visit friends with cakes and appalling jokes and sit around and remember the loved and lost.

It feels a bit like that today. My thoughts have turned to those who still live with that day, everyday.

Random House

2009-09-05T20:43:00.003+01:00

Spent too much time talking to estate agents today.

Man#1 told too many cutesy stories.

Lady talked for hours, I lost the will to live.

Man#2 was great.

We're going with Man#1. It's about selling the house.

Some news

2009-09-01T21:45:00.005+01:00

Don't know if it's

boys

or girls

or possibly a mix but we've just been confirmed with twins.

I'm off to meet a man about a big car tomorrow evening.
The estate agents are coming round on Saturday.
I sense 2010 will be busy.

A new start?

2009-08-25T13:28:00.004+01:00

I'm liking the new Norwich.
I think I'm almost liking them alot.
I might even start believing in them again.

My reasons?

I'm no fan of the folk who run footy but Mr McNally, the Chief executive, seems to be a man who is keen to halt the dithering. The dithering that has been a big part of our fourteen year decline. Keeping Bryan Gunn on as manager after he had failed to keep us in the Championship was wrong. His sole aim when he took over in February was to keep us up.

He failed.

McNally came along and saw that. After the 7-1 defeat against Colchester he made a decision and carried it out.

Good.

Paul Lambert was hired and has introduced a new air about the place, the old guard are looking uncertain and I like that. When we were relegated I was telling anyone who wanted to listen that we needed an aggressive youngish coach who was not afraid to do things his way, a dash of the early Clough? A hint of O'Neill?

I think we've got him.

Another good point has to be some of the fresh, young talent coming in. This matter is best summed up by the silver fox. I watched City get beaten 4-1 by Sunderland last night, an entertaining game despite the result. Dad is becoming slightly besotted with a 17 year old boy. I would be worried but it's not all bad. Tom Adeyemi reminds my father of his first love, the World Cup winner and City's 70's icon Martin Peters. He sits there and mutters "He's the new Martin Peters". I've not heard my dad talk that way in years, if ever.

Old love, England's hero and City star, Martin Peters.

New love, 17 year old 'wunderkind' Tom Adeyemi.

In the car on the way home a caller to the radio offered mild, slightly ambiguous criticism of Adeyemi, My father's response?

"Piss off! You have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!!!"

On another Adeyemi related note, I sat behind some of his schoolmates. I was only aware of this when the player was warming down after being substituted towards the end of the match. One of them shouted at him, he turned, waved and said hello and all that, then on about his business. I have heard all the tales about the old days when players used to travel to the games on public transport but have never actually seen a player with such a normal local connection. He is, in every sense of the word, A Norwich boy.

The way through the woods.

2009-08-18T13:38:00.004+01:00

We're 'staycationing' at my parents house for a week as our kitchen is being refitted.

Last night as we were about to settle down to watch 'Frost Nixon'* we noticed a family strolling along the main road.
"LUNATICS! THEY"LL ALL DIE! FOOLS! SOMEBODY, MAKE THEM STOP! OH THE HUMANITY!" (and that was just father trying to find the remote control).
It's fair to say that we were alarmed by their seemingly carefree amble along the middle of one of Norfolk's busier 'B' roads until we remembered that the road had been closed for 24 hours for essential maintainance.

So Frau Random Doubt and myself took advantage of the live in babysitters and took a stroll ourselves.

*Mutually acceptable viewing
West, towards Wicklewood.
West, towards Wicklewood.
South East, towards Wymondham Abbey.
West, towards Wicklewood.
The B1135 towards Wicklewood.

Despite the sound of workmen in the distance there was an amazing sense of calm, It made one think of a world without cars.
It was beautiful.

.

Geekfest 2009!

2009-08-16T19:52:00.002+01:00

A sneaky trip to Duxford.

The nephews loved the saucy artwork on the side of this B17, "She's got BOOOOBS!!!"
A full on lads day out was enhanced by the aforementioned B17 actually taking off.

And flying away...

Domesticity

2009-08-13T12:14:00.003+01:00

I've decided I don't like figs.
A kind neighbour cornered me with some the other day.

"Oh you must try them, they're delicious"

So I took a few and left them to ripen on the kitchen window sill.
Today, whilst emptying the kitchen in advance of next week's renovation I thought "better try one, can't live a life less travelled" and all that.

Not for me.

Award winning Blog!

2009-08-12T20:38:00.005+01:00

A medal for turning up at a regatta but not actually entering a race was not the only thing won around here over the last few days.

The top person's sailing Blog Propercourse
has voted TRDOWM's Hickling Broad Regatta post (see below) as it's best regatta blog post of 2009!

I'm not sure what we win and I'll be looking for the invitation to the glitzy awards ceremony in the post (once the postal strike is over of course). This award means a great deal to all of us here at Mondale House as it's voted for by the listening public and record buyers and not the record company fatcats.

Thank you, and thanks to Jamie, Will and Sim for making the weekend such fun.

Hickling Broad Regatta 2009

2009-08-10T20:23:00.012+01:00

It all started out as an idea over drinks. I had dragged some fellow dads along to see a film, only to find that the cinema showing the film was, well, not actually showing the film.

Having popped into a pub to discuss my inability to select a cinema the conversation turned to boats. It was suggested that a sailing trip might be a bit of a laugh.

With a bit of time, knowledge and the go ahead from Frau Random Doubt I set about organising a summer jaunt. I called my favourite boatyard and made enquiries, knowing that a date isn't a date until we've all got a) our wives permission and b) the date cut in stone.

Hickling holds an 'alternative' regatta every year in August. It's an occasion to meet and be merry, you certainly don't have to race which was handy as that might require effort and skill. We were happy just to get there, and with such light airs that was an achievement on it's own.
August 8th, 2009. Hunters Boatyard, Ludham, Norfolk. Buff Tip is ready to go. Four of us, Myself and Will (sailors) and Jamie and Sim (non sailors) were about to spend the weekend sailing, drifting and drinking and eating bad food.

Arty shot of Buff Tip's main.
One of my favourite aspects of the weekend was the enthusiasm of the 'non sailors' for getting stuck in, having a go and (pardon the bloody awful pun) learning the ropes. Both Jamie (above) and Sim did really well in some difficult (hardly any wind) circumstances.
It didn't take a pair of binoculars to see that Buff Tip was in a spot of bother.
Woodcut strutting her stuff on Hickling Broad.

The outward leg was tough, very little wind and lots of tacking up narrow rivers. I normally object to such things as mobile phones when sailing but it was nice to be able to text the race committee and let them know of our progress. It was also nice to receive their sarcastic responses.
A view of Hickling from Buff Tip.
A spot of civilised sailing. We swopped boats halfway through the outward leg but forgot to swop facilities. I was thus left gasping for my celebratory pint upon finally reaching Hickling Broad. Woodcut had all 6 bottle openers on board! We had to engage them in order to ask very nicely for a bottle opener so that the CO could have his customary pint.
Our gorgeous moooring at the top of Hickling. Woodcut on the left, Buff Tip on the right.

We had left Ludham at 10am. The plan had been to arrive at Hickling just after lunch. We finally moored up at about 5.30pm
The Hickling Broad regatta (NOT to be confused with the Hickling Broad Sailing Club regatta) was a delightfully laid back bohemian affair. An open b.y.o barbeque, a selection of benches, bunting and a tent. Most of all a friendly, mildly disorganised approach to sailing and life and fun. A small spot for free spirits in the middle of a world of turmoil.
The view from the barbeque. If you look very closely you can see my barbeque speciality, banana bacon. I asked the gathered few what the 'rules' were for the barbeque. "Oh just bung it on, come back in half an hour". About an hour later the same man strolled over to us and pointed out that it might be worth checking out the barbeque as our food was clearly cooked and people were getting quite enthusiastic about the banana bacon.

I loved the old Land Rover with ketchup and stuff for people to share, I also loved the fact that there was a tinny little radio in the middle of the lawn gently playing Radio 3.
Your host, Will with Woodcut's extensive bar.
Sundown at the prize table.

The weather on both days had been outstanding with only one slight problem, little or no wind. A sailing weekend needs a bit of a puff.
Dawn. Still no wind. (Then again there never is at dawn)
Sunday morning can mean only one of two things, Church Parade or black pudding!

We chose the black pudding option.

Sim gets stuck in.

I don't like to brag but I can throw together a bloody good brecky when needs must. The others laughed at the teapot when they saw it on Saturday. By god they were grateful on Sunday morning. Endless gallons of tea!
The regatta committee got the flag up a few minutes before the sailing club, thus 'claiming' the broad for the day.
Before we left on our homeward leg we were presented with medals. I love medals!
Ross (regatta organiser) presents Will with his 'longest distance travelled to visit regatta but not actually enter a race' medal.
Woodcut on her way.
Jamie and Sim getting us through Potter bridge.
Heads down.
Geek shot of rigging on Buff Tip.
Yours truly wearing that shirt. I had forgotten that the day before, Norwich had been destroyed 7-1 on the opening day of the season. even in the slightly rarefied atmosphere of the Broads I was happily heckled by a few well intentioned types.

All in all a truly delightful weekend, the weather could only have been bettered with a bit more wind, we spent most of our time sailing and the rest enjoying the company of some of life's better souls, boats and humans.

Sailing

2009-08-10T10:45:00.002+01:00

I'l do a proper post in a day or two.
I'll just say this.
I feel like an old wooden door, an old wooden door with blistered hands and a lot of sun.

And I'd do it all again tomorrow!

Hickling water frolic

2009-08-04T00:24:00.001+01:00

Lots of drunken sailing coming your way soon.

Book learning #53

2009-07-22T19:12:00.004+01:00

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh.

I don't think I've ever picked up a book with such loaded preconceptions before. I don't think my preconceptions have ever been dashed away in quite such an agreeable fashion.

Up until July 2009 I associated the phrase 'Brideshead Revisited' with useless upper class fops wincing about Oxford and hugging teddy bears. I thought that was the whole story. Despite the fact that I have read and for the most part, enjoyed, a lot of Evelyn Waugh's books I had never tried this one, the image of the 1981 TV dramatisation (abovementioned fops etc) completely put me off, despite the fact that I had never even seen the TV version.

It was a wet Sunday afternoon when I found this on a shelf at a friend's house. I took it home and became engrossed. It was perfect for light summer evenings, romantic and nostalgic yet real enough in terms of characters and plot to keep the lower middle class twentyfirst century reader engaged.

There is only one teddy bear hugging upper class fop, though prominent throughout as a theme, he features little in person. Even then, in the book he's a sympathetic character.

2016

2009-07-20T19:24:00.003+01:00

So how does this seven years bad luck thing work?

Is it all disaster from now on?

Are there some light moments thrown in? Just to make me feel safe again?

Has anyone out there been through this and come out the other side?

Doesn't seven years seem a bit of a weighty punishment for simply moving a wash bag too hastily?

Postscript: In the two days since i broke that mirror my carburettor died and I've had to handle real poo three times.

Summer Mondale!!!!!!!!!!*

2009-07-17T21:15:00.005+01:00

Yes.
Thank god.
The summer holidays are here.
It's been an incredibly long and supremely frustrating school year**.
I've spent the last few weeks batting googlies and praying for this day to come, pass without incident and come to a mildly tipsy close.
Just one Baker day on Monday and then it's seven weeks of daddy day care, huntin, shootin, fishin and some sailing.

*I love the multiple !!!.
**I still love my job, just not the politics which has resembled the worst aspects of the Bush***/Nixon****/Stalin***** eras.
*** The trouble with being the decider is deciding which Bush to model yourself upon. I tend to aim for the Bush 41 model, not ideal but suitably devoid of emotion to get through the day, that and a natty dresser (in his own way).
**** I told the school council "If the Senior teacher does it, it's not illegal". Would they listen?
***** The purges in the autumn term were a bad idea. I see that now.

That July 4th thing.

2009-07-12T20:23:00.003+01:00

For those of you following this scarce blog (it's a thin period, some great, heavyweight blogging just around the corner but nothing I can report at the moment, in almost every sphere of Mondale reality there is 'big stuff around the hill' but not yet) you may be wondering... "What did Henry wear to the July 4th BBQ?"

Yeah, we dropped the ball on that one, sorry kid.

Twenty years ago today! Sort of...

2009-06-28T19:23:00.002+01:00

Stone Roses, Norwich Arts Centre, June 26, 1989.

Small venue.

Big gig.

Ah, nostalgia, It's going to kill me.

July 4th.

2009-06-25T21:24:00.003+01:00

The big question?

What's Henry to wear on July 4th?

I've decided that every Independence Day until he reaches his age of majority (or hopefully his mid sixties) he will dress as a US President. Last year he was George Washington.
Accordingly, following the logic (but not the precedent) he should be John Adams, right? In my experience of US history he has slipped through the net and I have yet to see the biopic so I might need some support for this idea.

Or should I jump to Thomas Jefferson?

Or just go back to a winning formula?

If I decide to follow the President a year idea it could be an interesting future. Polk? Cleveland? I'll certainly have something to look forward to in 2043.
I'm worried that by the time he's 7 or 15 or 24 he'll grow tired of the idea and reject it completely, thus failing me as a son ans I'll have to stop loving him.

Should I try Chief Justices of the Supreme Court instead?

Camera?

2009-06-20T20:41:00.003+01:00

Of course we forgot the camera.
Of course, we decided to not go shopping but visit a local historical spot instead.
Of course we stumbled upon a fantastic bunch of civil war enthusiasts, complete with pikes, muskets, washerwomen and seventeenth century extreme left wing political bickering.

I paused for half a second too long and ended up getting drawn in to a brilliant impromptu lecture about musketry.
Frau Random Doubt was treated to a rant about the rights of women in the Stuart era.
The wee hen just loved the swords!

Worth every penny of the free entry.

What's wrong with me?

2009-06-13T21:04:00.003+01:00

I've become obsessed with shackles.
I mean, I want to base a society on them, people should wear them and honour each other with the presentation of shackles.
I've even decided that when Henry gets his grown up Viking* name he will wear a shackle around his neck on a chain.

*After plunging into the North sea fully clothed a few weeks ago he has already got his juvenile Viking name ,
Crikey Thorsvaldsson.

Book learning . Help!

2009-06-10T21:25:00.001+01:00

I'm in that place again.

I need suggestions.

Thanks.

European/local council elections 2009. Zzzzzzzzzzz...

2009-06-03T21:27:00.002+01:00

...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

OK, But seriously.

Another day, another election and don't listen to the naysayers, this one MATTERS.

I'll do want I normally do. Ponder the issues, think hard about the comparative policies of the main players, read the manifestos.

Ah, sod it, I'll vote Liberal* like I always do.

(and how can you resist when they have pedigree like the picture above?)

*In all seriousness, the Liberals are the party of Europe, check.
They are also the only party worth a breath against the all conquering Tories, well around here anyway.
Also, I heard their leader on the radio today, he made a bit of sense and wasn't sweating.

The European Cup Final

2009-05-26T22:03:00.007+01:00

Since our relegation to the Third Division I have taken to rewinding history and referring to things by their pre corporate nomenclature. I'm not trying to be a wanker, it's just that things seems less confusing to me, it's a very confusing world and inside my tired mind I need a touch of clarity.

Hence the fact that I am very much looking forward to tomorrow evening's European Cup Final between FC Barcelona and Manchester United.

Of course, as a Englishman I should want United to win, but as a Norfolk nationalist I have tremendous sympathies with the Catalan peoples of Barcelona. Oh I don't know, just hope it's a cracker.

I also find evening games much easier to cope with, what with a toddler and all. There's no way I could sit down in the middle of the day and watch a game right now, whereas a 7.45pm kickoff is perfect, a beer or two, an early summer evening, that slightly magical scent of the European finals of one's youth, Wonderful.

I should also add that the European Cup is a thing of absolute beauty, the most perfect sporting trophy in the world.

POSTSCRIPT

Another 'win win' situation, United were awful and deservedly lost. I was able to enjoy seeing them humiliated. Barca were great, Thierry Henry was great and to cap it all off United were sponsored by AIG whilst Barca reject sponsorship and actually donate money to UNICEF.
Maybe I'm being a bit too new worldy about all this but it felt good at the time.

Brushing teeth

2009-05-26T21:13:00.002+01:00

Ah, the mac was slow and grumpy.

Things were getting lost and awkward.

I emailed the mac man.

He emailed back, swiftly and politely.

Then.

Frau Random Doubt found 4567 pictures in our iphoto trashcan.

It's like we've brushed the 'puter's teeth.

Things happen when you want them to.

Book learning # 52

2009-05-25T13:20:00.003+01:00

America, Empire of liberty by David Reynolds

I have a favourite brand of chocolate bar. Well known within my family, I receive one twice a year, at Christmas and on my birthday. On each occasion I unwrap the chocolate bar, place it in the fridge and nibble on it for months (not being a huge fan of chocolate) a chunk here, a week or two later, another chunk. It's treating chocolate the way some people can smoke twice a year when they enjoy a little too much red wine. It's a testament to the non addictive side of my personality, a feat of restraint.

I was given this book for my birthday at the end of March, on the same day that I opened my

biannual choccy treat. Like the chocolate I was able to dip into this book every now and then, swill the flavour around in my mouth and delight in the taste.

In 645 pages Reynolds attempts to provide an overview of American history from prehistoric times to November 2008. Of course there are gaps and the weight is clearly post 17th century liberal. But it's still a lovely thing to hold and behold. It was originally a BBC radio 4 series broadcast last year, 15 minute shows focussing on a different element of the American story. As a result of this format it's an ideal read for the moderately informed (or, like me, well informed in parts but clueless in others) This book has proved to be a real comfort of late, chapters and sections manageable enough to sit with for half an hour here or there, in the garden, on the loo, late at night in bed. Not only has the content been interesting and enjoyable but the style has made it a pleasure to engage in the art of reading.

If all book could be such.

Carru'rud

2009-05-12T12:10:00.005+01:00

Here are a few shots of my day playing footy at carru'rud.

Posing before the player's tunnel.
Posing before the Barclay.
Posing before the Jarrold stand (shall I go on?)

With my brother (Wor Bobby) in the dug out.

There were more pictures but I played on the far side of thr pitch so no good action shots. Also, I entrusted the silver fox with the camera but he spent the entire game grilling the club official (OK, steward) about the severe crisis gripping the club and didn't take too many pictures.

I don't blame him.

We lost but it was great fun.

Carrow Road

2009-05-07T21:21:00.001+01:00

At last, some good news to come from the newest Third Division football ground. On Sunday I will join 21 others and play at Carrow Road! Just as long as I can shake off this swine flu.

No more hypotheticals.

2009-05-04T19:55:00.002+01:00

Just over 24 hours ago Norwich City were relegated.

For the first time since 1960 they will play in the third tier (The old Third Division as I still think of it).

I didn't watch the final defeat, preferring to spend time with my family at the beach.

I turned off the radio with 9 minutes remaining.

For a while things were uncertain, in my mind anyway.

The bush telegraph has been silent, you know things are really bad, people are hurting when nobody talks about it.

I left my phone off, didn't look at the telly or the internet, tuned into music stations on the radio.

I got on with the otherwise agreeable family weekend.

That's how I handled the initial stage of relegation, the other stages will follow.

Because of all the doom and gloom I've decided to list a few things that make me smile, but not the obvious things like my wife or my little boy.

2009-04-30T22:04:00.002+01:00

In no particular order...

Flight of the conchords

American history, in particular the book I'm reading right now. In fact I might just go straight upstairs and read some now.

The real prospect of some sailing this year (the boats are booked, the crew is ready and the beer will be drunk)

The flaming gorgeous spring weather.

I've borrowed my dad's flash new car for a few days even though I'm not a car person I'm still happy to be driving about in a flash new car for a day or two.

Thinking about what I'll be thinking about once this painful footy season is finally over and I'll know the future and what it will hold.

Facebook has thrown up a couple of really good old uni chums, that's nice.

Acupuncture.

The mini pretend vacation we'll be on in a week or so from now (house sitting rocks!)

Stopping the world and getting off.

Which beach to visit on Sunday.

There's more...

You know why I've been quiet and you know what I'm about to say...

2009-04-30T20:52:00.005+01:00

... It's going to happen isn't it?

A couple of moments from the last week I'd like to share.

After the 0-2 defeat at home to Reading on Monday night I overheard two blokes chatting to each other about the places they'll visit next season. "Colchester will be a local derby won't it?"

The radio guy telling us how the last time Norwich were in the Third Division was 50 years ago but hardly any Norwich fans remember 50 years ago. My dad responded "I remember 50 years ago, it was shit".

On Sunday we must beat Charlton and Barnsley must lose to Plymouth.

Not impossible but very unlikely. Light a candle for us?

Relegation (again)

2009-04-19T19:41:00.001+01:00

I'm back in that sorry place again.

We lost 3-2 to Ipswich.

F**********************k

This could really be it.

Oh gods of sport!

2009-04-19T13:38:00.000+01:00

Help us now, in this, our hour of need!