slacker

Yep, that’s me. I won’t apologise for my lack of blogging.

That is all.

kthxbye.

@benkweller @rubylounge

Dragged myself along to the Ruby Lounge in Manchester last night to see Ben Kweller. I say ‘dragged’ as I’m pretty knackered at the moment, what with all the work and training for LEJOG. Paul is a tired boy.

I reckon I’ve seen BK 6 times now and last night was almost, almost the best. That award goes to the gig he did at Night and Day back in 2004…

Anyway, didn’t hold out much hope last night when I got to the Ruby Lounge and my immediate tweet was “the ruby lounge is the worst gig venue in the world” – and it is. The stage is raised about a foot, so if you are not close to the front you aren’t seeing anything. The acoustics are good, though, and it’s very intimate.

So, I couldn’t see BK at all. Caught about 2 glimpses of him in the whole set. Didn’t matter though as he put on an amazing show. Accompanied by just his geetar, a piano and another chap on some peculiar instrument (couldn’t see it) he delighted the entire crowd with one of the most personal, improvised sets that I’ve witnessed by any artist.

The shouts for “sha sha” were answered with “aw, we ain’t played that in a looong time, let’s give it a try”. It was almost as if he just wanted to play what we wanted to hear, like he was in our front room. “Tylenol” and then “Lizzy”  were also played at the crowds request.

The highlight though was “thirteen” off the last album. A beautiful, haunting song that hushed the entire room and I defy anyone to not admit that they were moved by the sound of that harmonica in the middle. Truly brilliant.

If you don’t know Ben Kweller you need to look him up. Go over to Amazon or iTunes and listen to some snippets. He’s heading in more of a country direction it seems (he is a Texan, after all), but the new songs all sounded strong.

After the gig he took time to meet the audience and sign stuff, including the new EP I picked up. It’s the second time I’ve had the chance to chat to BK and he comes across as a really nice guy. Would like to buy him a pint.

Anyway, he’ll be back in May he said. I’ll be there and if the gig is at the Ruby Lounge I’ll be sure to get there early. Those guys at the front would have been treated to an almighty show.

Bravo BK, bravo.

-pc.

Have you seen Jamie Staffs thighs?

Well have you? I mean, come on, they are huge and should have their own gravitational forces.

Now, this isn’t a post about where Jamie buys his trousers but about cycling. I just used the thigh line to get your attention. Cycling is becoming a bit of a theme around these justonething parts of late, you may have noticed. With good reason.

A week or two I mentioned that I may be doing the John O’Groats to Land’s end bike ride next year. Well, that might has turned into a definite and I’ve started to get myself into some kind of shape to tackle the 900+ miles.

And so I return to Jamie Staff and his thighs. We went to the UCI World Track Cycling Cup yesterday at Manchester Velodrome to watch a good number of Team GB’s all conquering cyclists in the first major event since the Beijing Olympics. It was a great day…we had tickets almost on the finish line and saw some great action. The keirin, madison and team sprint were all concluded yesterday.

What strikes you is how fit these guys (and girls are). A mate of our Steve, Ray, who came along with us said that he’d had a go on the track and even though he bikes off-road quite a bit, after 5 laps he was knackered. So, the madison guys who did 160 laps in 45 minutes or so (that’s 40Km) must be frighteningly fit.

I guess if I’m going to be able to cycle 80+ miles every day for 10 days or so, I will need to be somewhat fitter than I am now.

Ugh, I’m rambling and because I’m hungry I need to stop.

So, the point of this post is to tell you this. I’m doing the JOGLE next year. I need to get in training and I started today. I don’t want to have thighs like Jamie Staff, as unlikely as that may seem and I have a new blog to track all the ride progress on.

Go here – 905milesinthesaddle.wordpress.com.

I’ll put some highlight stuff up here from time to time, but mostly justonething will retain it’s original purpose – recount my inane ramblings.

-pc.

Death of a (blubberbot) friend

He’s been sat on top of a cupboard for a few months with a detached left eye. He’s been getting scornful looks and treatment from Jackie as she moves him around the house.

So, at the weekend I thought I’d perform some resuscitative surgery on my friend. I grabbed the solder, soldering iron and wire and set to work. All seemed to go well, but alas no signs of life. “Must need new batteries”, I thought.

Sunday morning I nipped over to Maplin and bought new batteries. Even that failed to revive him. The soldering iron came out again in a last ditch attempt to breathe life (and helium) back into him.

No joy.

I think he has passed over to wherever Blubberbots go when they are dead. I’m not happy about this, probably because I neglected him for so long and he just gave up in the end. I have his blood (well, helium, wire and foil) on my hands – his demise is my fault.

Now I must decide what to do with him. Should I try one last time? Should I contact Jed and see what can be done?

Here’s a couple of pics for you to remember him in his flying heyday.

-pc.

841 miles in the saddle

I’ve singularly failed to make my blog more pink as October has trundled along. In fact, I’m astounded that it is now the 20th and I will soon be returning justonething back to normal colours. The month has just rattled by.

Last night it was Adam Whitesides 18th birthday party. On a Sunday…purrr-lease – it might be half term for you youngsters, but I had to work today. Actually, last night was a peek into the world of 18 year old life. The room was just full of hormones and hairspray. Backcombing and big hair was the order of the day…and that was just the lads.

A good night though, but as I was playing pool at 2am, I did think that perhaps I should have a closer eye on the days work that lay ahead.

Anyway, during the course of the night, Peter (Adams Dad) and I talked about doing a long distance bike ride for charity – something that I’ve wanted to do for a long time, but never had the time to follow through on. I remember the first time that I talked about this was with a school friend when I was 16 or 17. So it’s been rattling around my head for almost 20 years.

Well, 2009 looks like it could be the year that it finally happens.  I don’t want to say too much at the moment as it’s at a very early stage at the moment and we all know how these things can get derailed.

But, todays conversation with Peter was this. Land’s End to John O’Groats or Blackpool to Montreux? They’re both about the same distance…about 850 – 900 miles. No decision yet, but the latter is looking more favourable.

Anyway, I’ll keep you updated on progress. Lots to think about. If you’ve got any tips on preparation or any other thoughts, drop me a line. Be interested to hear from you.

But (and here’s the link to Pink for October), I’ll definitely be aiming to raise money for Cancer Research and in particular the Rosemere Foundation in Preston.

-pc.

I’m going Pink

for October, that is…both here and on Twitter.

Pink for October is an effort to show support for breast cancer awareness by turning your website, blog or whatever pink during the month. Thanks to Laura for her tweet pointing me to this. I’m happy to support, particularly in light of recent events.

My pink switch is quite subtle…but that’s only because I haven’t had chance to mess with the template yet. Maybe over the course of the month I’ll gradually turn it more pink.

-pc.

Lulworth Cove

For the next week or so, I will mostly be here or close by.

If it rains, it rains. So be it.

I think Jackie wants to go to Monkey World.

Be careful whilst I’m gone.

-pc.

The Grass Arena

Whilst in Ireland last weekend I read ‘The Grass Arena’ by John Healy. I’d spotted a review of the book, republished by Penguin Classics, whilst bouncing around in the turbulence of a flight whilst on a previous visit to the Emerald Isle.

You can read that review in the Guardian here. It grabbed me as an inspirational tale of a man who had his life turned around in a heartbeat and something that I should definitely read. Take two minutes to read the review and I reckon you’ll be as intrigued to read the book as much as I was.

I think I have a somewhat addictive personality. Most would probably call it mild OCD. But I can’t imagine what John Healy’s life must have been like as a desperate alcholic saved from likely destruction by chess. But switching one addiction for another certainly saved his life.

The writing style struck me as odd at first…disjointed, scattered and random. On reflection it makes sense to me. His life experiences faced fighting his corner in The Grass Arena were exactly that…disjointed as he lurched from stupor to stupor, randomly trying to find a way to get the next bottle and I’m sure scattered recollection of those times as he wrote the book.

It’s powerful stuff and you can’t help but be incredibly drawn into his life. Only a first person perspective on that kind of existence could drive home how difficult it must be and it makes for a book that is rightly being hailed as a modern classic in some quarters. I’m no book critic, but John Healy deserves recognition for it in some way.

I now have a totally different perspective on those who’s lives are blighted by alcohol. As I walk up and down Oxford Road in Manchester there is a very real Grass Arena just yards from the pavement. I’m now far more conscious of the tell tale signs of these life struggles…the stash of alcohol hidden in the bushes or the rolled up sleeping back under the MMU window ledge.

As I walked through St Peters Square yesterday, there were three guys sat on the library steps, 2 litre bottles of white star in their hands. Their compadre was stood about 15 feet from them, completely dishevelled, wavering in the sunlight, eyes glazed as the intoxicant took hold.

What raced through my mind were the immediates of the situation. Where does he sleep, how does he fund his addiction and where does the support come from? It’s an unbelievably fragile existence and those three compadres sat 15 feet behind him may well be his main crutch…and there’s a peculiar honour amongst equals, it seems, in these alcoholic circles.

And yet, that fragile honour that helps them survive can ultimately be their downfall. Again, on Oxford Road I’ve seen guys fighting over nothing…just outside the Grass Arena…and we have to avoid it…yet those two guys may be one step from their last.But there is little we can do to stop it or help them. It’s desperately sad.

Anyway, I don’t know a great deal about that world, let alone how to really help those guys. But I understand it a little more and maybe I’ll be more tolerant of it now.

When you’re next in the book shop…seek out The Grass Arena and join me in that raised tolerance.

-pc.

Destroying Icons: Save The Tinsley Towers

I only spent a year living in Sheffield, but it’s always held a place in my heart. I’d move back there in a heartbeat and probably should have instead of my last move. That, however, is another story.

It’s kind of hard to explain why I love Sheffield so much, but I guess that it is mostly wrapped up in the fact that jackie lived there when we first met, that we have some great friends who live in said city and that I also fell in love with Sheffield Wednesday when I was there.

A short year, but somewhat defining in my life.

Anyway. Somehow I was watching The One Show on BBC One last week (lord knows why, even the strangely alluring charms of Christine Bleackley can’t save that show) and they had a feature on the Tinsley Towers. Or, rather, they had a feature on how they are about to be demolished.

They’ve stood useless for a good few years, are only about 70-odd years old and some say ugly. If you are unfamiliar with them, they are the two huge cooling towers that stand about 50 feet from the M1 as you reach the Sheffield exits.

They’ve obviously also been silent for years, but have welcomed every single car that whizzed past them…silently saying “This is Sheffield”. The city has a proud industrial heritage that was decimated in the latter decades of the last century and destroying the towers would remove the last reminders of this.

It’d be a travesty and I can’t help feeling that Sheffield will lose some of it’s charm as a result. Those towers welcomed me to the city over a decade ago and they have done ever since. It just won’t be the same.

Of course some would argue that they are reminders of the pain that the city felt when the steel industry was in almost terminal decline. For me they are a small, but important part of the fabric of the steel city that should be retained.

They are iconic, majestic and harmless. Save the Tinsley Towers.

http://www.new.facebook.com/group.php?gid=2217710744

-pc.

Total Eclipse

Grabbed this from t’web this morning whilst grafting.

Watched it a good few times and it gives me goosebumps every time.

Amazing stuff…