diamond geezer

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Metro-land revisited
Chiltern Court
Baker Street

Betjeman began his Home Counties Odyssey at Baker Street station... or, to be more accurate, in the elegant restaurant above the station. He sat beneath the gilded ceiling at a lined-topped table surrounded by folded napkins and gleaming china, as had so many diners before him. Sir John was clearly very much at home in such surroundings.

"Here the wives from Pinner and Ruislip, after a day's shopping at Liberty's or Whiteleys, would sit waiting for their husbands to come up from Cheapside and Mincing Lane, and while they waited they could listen to the strains of the band playing for the tea dances, before they took the train for home."
John Betjeman in the Chiltern Court Restaurant ("Metro-land", BBC, 1973)

This is Chiltern Court [photo], the former headquarters of the Metropolitan Railway, looming large above the Marylebone Road. It's a vast building, as you'll know if you've ever looked across while standing in the queue outside Madame Tussauds nextdoor. There is no finer symbol of the financial success of Metro-land. This state-of-the-arts eleven-storey apartment block was the most luxurious in London when it opened in 1929. According to publicity at the time, the building contained "40 passenger and service lifts, postal chutes on each floor, hot-water radiator heating and automatic telephones." Residents were "able to proceed direct, not only to the Stores or the Restaurant, but also to the station platforms" [phot os]. No wonder HG Wells found the place irresistable - he spent several years living in flat number 47. A mere half a million quid will get you a two-bedroom flat in Chiltern Court today - "conveniently located for Baker Street station". [entrance]

The Chiltern Court restaurant doesn't serve Brown Windsor soup to prim ladies and their stockbroker husbands any more. It's been bought up by the Wetherspoons chain and now lives out its days as the rather less exclusive Metropolitan Bar [photo]. A meal costs much the same as when Sir John sat here, but he didn't have to face 2-for-1 price deals, ketchup sachets and disposable serviettes. Any old pleb can get past the doorman these days, and believe me they do. The tables and chairs are rather less grand than before, and are filled with students, cheery tourist types and bloated lagerboys. The walls have been repainted navy blue instead of ruby red, and one is nearly completely obscured behind the well-stocked bar. But look up above the chunky square pillars and lo, the sky-blue ceiling is still liberally covered with the stucco crests of the Metropolitan Railway. If you're able to block out the occasional ringtone and the whirr of a nearby slot machine, you could almost be sat here back in the restaurant's heyday. Just don't look down.

"Here the beery blokes from Watford and Uxbridge, after a day's boozing in Camden or Soho, would sit waiting for their girlfriends to come up from Lakeside and Bluewater, and while they waited they could watch the football on Sky playing on the plasma flat screen, before they threw up on the train home."
diamond geezer in the ~~Chiltern Court Restaurant~~ Metropolitan Bar, 2006)

• 15 page article from the December 1927 issue of The Railway Magazine, all about Baker Street station and its traffic (including plans for the new Chiltern Court) [pdf]
• Photographs of Baker Street station from The Railway Station Gallery

posted 00:01 :

Saturday, August 19, 2006

Metro-land
a history

"The Company also has an important Extension line... The district through which it passes has been happily named Metro-land, and it is the purpose of this Guide briefly to describe the more important of the small townships which the Metropolitan serves, and in the steady development of which the line has been the principal agent."
Foreword to "Metro-land" brochure (1924)

The Metropolitan Railway was the first steam underground in the world. It chugged beneath the Marylebone Road from Paddington to Farringdon, before spreading its tentacles out further around central London. So successful was the fledgling railway that its bosses started to look further afield, with dreams of connecting their network to Oxford, Birmingham and even Manchester. They took an existing stumpy branch line terminating at Swiss Cottage and extended it outwards - first to Willesden, then to Harrow, Rickmansworth, Aylesbury and beyond. Further branch lines followed, to Uxbridge, Watford and Stanmore, until the Metropolitan railway was the driving force across the northwestern Home Counties.

Long-distance traffic proved elusive, however, not least because the hoped-for connections to the Midlands failed to materialise, so the Met turned their attention instead to the land alongside their tracks. They'd had the sense to buy up acres and acres of fields while the railway was still under construction, because they realised the potential of future property development. Not only could they sell off executive villas for a tidy profit (detached houses in Ickenham sold for £650 each, for example) but they could also fill their trains with regular season-ticketed commuters (£2 first class for a month's travel from Ickenham to Baker Street). It was a surefire recipe for success.

The first published guide to Metro-land was launched in 1915. This annual glossy brochure attempted to lure the well-to-do away from built-up crammed-together London by painting a picture of a well-connected rustic paradise. All that a flat-renting smoke-dwelling clerk had to do was flick through the Metro-land brochure and select the station of his dreams. Everywhere was "traditional" but "modern", "delightful" but "convenient", "unspoilt" but "accessible". Estates were often "garden villages", country rambles were always "charming" and the golf clubs were nothing less than "luxurious". Estate agent superlatives haven't changed much over the years. The 1924 edition of the guide, the "British Empire Exhibition Number", is now available in bookshops should you want to take a look for yourself.

During the 1920s and 1930s the population of Metro-land increased dramatically. But as commuters moved in, so the countryside they had come to enjoy disappeared beneath acres of sprawling semis. Railway bosses had destroyed much of the rural idyll they were trying to sell, and these phenomenal growth rates stalled. When London Transport nationalised the line in 1933 their priorities were transport, not housing, and so the Metro-Land brand was dropped. It was left to private property investors to continue the area's transformation, at least until the Second World War and the emergence of the Green Belt put a stop to it.

Large swathes of northwest London are still mothballed in the 1930s, architecturally at least, thanks to the Metropolitan Railway. Hundreds of thousands of Londoners would live nowhere else, because they don't build homes like this any more. Indeed, it would be environmentally irresponsible to build on such a scale ever again. You don't get a tennis-court-sized garden in a modern housing development, you get a concrete patio and a windowbox. You don't get detached isolation in an inner city apartment, you get paper-thin party walls and ghetto-blasting neighbours. And you don't get a home of character with chimneypots in Prescott's Britain, you get a box surrounded by identical boxes, if you're lucky. Metro-land may be a fake Arcadia, but it's still a very desirable place to live.

The expansion of Metro-Land
from Baker Street to... Swiss Cottage (1868), Willesden Green (1879), Harrow (1890), Pinner (1885), Rickmansworth (1887), Chesham (1889), Aylesbury & on to Verney Junction (1892), Uxbridge (1904), Watford (1925), Stanmore (1932)

• The history of the Metropolitan line

posted 08:00 :

Friday, August 18, 2006

Metro-land
revisited

"Child of the first war, forgotten by the second, we called you Metro-land.
We laid our schemes, lured by the lush brochure,
Down byways beckoned, to build at last the cottage of our dreams,
A city clerk turned countryman again, and linked to the Metropolis by train."
"Metro-land", John Betjeman (BBC, 1973)

In the summer of 1972 the newly-appointed Poet Laureate, John Betjeman, took a train ride out into the London suburbs. He followed the tracks of the Metropolitan railway from Baker Street out into the northwestern suburbs, through Middlesex, Herts and Bucks, and he took a BBC camera crew with him. The resulting documentary, Metro-land, is a television classic, lovingly reflecting the quirkier side of everyday Englishness. Sir John explored the extraordinary architecture to be found in London's commuter belt and met the ordinary people who lived therein. From mock-Tudor semis to the Harrow Women's Institute, his lilting prose exalted the eccentric and the commonplace.

There was much to see. In the early 20th century Metro-land had sprawled outwards from the extending railway line, covering the countryside with faux-rural housing stock. Pavements replaced hedgerows, lawns replaced fields and half-timbered gables replaced woodland. Those who had lived in the city rushed to resettle in outskirts Arcadia. They came in search of peace, and space, and a vegetable garden of their very own - all within easy commuting distance of the urban workplace. Here and there an existing village was swallowed up, its history and customs absorbed to create a new artificial heritage. Middle England had reinvented itself, and Betjeman was on hand to celebrate the end result.

Best of all, Sir John came to my village on the day of our annual village fete. He stood on a street corner close to my house to watch the carnival floats pass by. He watched my six foot something music teacher waiting proudly on the village green with the school orchestra stacked up behind. And he smiled benignly as the Queen of the Revels tried hard not to burst in fits of giggles during her coronation ceremony. I was only seven years old at the time and I don't appear on screen, but I was there, somewhere in the background, buying ice lollies and trying to win bottles of Cresta in the tombola. In his documentary Sir John lovingly chronicled my world, my childhood and my semi-detached roots. Which makes Metro-land the perfect topic for this year's diamond geezer local history ~~month~~ fortnight.

To commemorate the centenary of Betjeman's birth, I'm attempting to revisit the locations that he visited in his seminal documentary all those decades ago. From the bustle of Baker Street to the forgotten fields of Quainton Road, and around ten stations inbetween. Will I rediscover early 20th century suburbia, or has life moved on? I shall be trying to follow the Neasden Nature Trail, searching for the pond in Harrow where half of Gilbert and Sullivan drowned, hunting for a giant organ in Chorleywood and, yes, returning 'home'. To Metro-land.

"Gaily into Ruislip Gardens runs the red electric train,
With a thousand Ta's and Pardon's daintily alights Elaine;
Hurries down the concrete station with a frown of concentration,
Out into the outskirt's edges, where a few surviving hedges
Keep alive our lost Elysium - rural Middlesex again."
"Middlesex", John Betjeman (1954)

• Metro-land is now available on DVD (hurrah)
• Cel eb rat ing John Betjeman 's centenary (born 28th August 1906)
• My full METRO-LAND REVISITED report

posted 07:00 :

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Rules of Big Brother 1 (2000, 64 days): 10 housemates enter house. Housemates nominate two fellow housemates each week, then the public vote to evict one of them. Nasty Nick's ejection is the only tweak. Sorted.

Rules of Big Brother 7 (2006, 93 days): 14 housemates enter house. First two housemates nominated for eviction by the Big Brotherhood. Shabaz walks. Dawn kicked out. Bonnie evicted. Two new housemates added. George walks. Two housemates barred from nominating. Sezer evicted. Two housemates barred from nominating. Sam evicted. Golden Housemate Suzie enters house after finding golden ticket in Kitkat bar and being selected by random lottery ball. Only Suzie's nominations count. Grace evicted. Four rule-breaking housemates forced to nominate in public. Lisa evicted. Two housemates nominated for (sssh, don't tell anybody) moving to the house nextdoor. Aisleyne moves next door. Five new housemates move in nextdoor. Jayne moves into main house. Jennie and Michael move into main house. Jonathan evicted. Aisleyne brings Spiral into main house. Lea evicted. All housemates except Jayne face eviction. Nikki evicted. Housemates face Jayne-induced punishment week. Jayne evicted. Housemates nominate in pairs for double eviction. Half of housemates sent to prison. Prisoners discover secret luxury hideaway. Michael and Spiral evicted. Housemates nominate using automated keypad. Surprise double eviction of Mikey and Suzie. Public vote to select four ex-housemates to return to house nextdoor. Jennie wins immunity from eviction. Four ex-housemates voted back into house nextdoor. Richard and Imogen move nextdoor. Imogen evicted. Nikki returns to main house. Other three ex-housemates evicted. Six housemates remain until final day. Pete wins.

Not that the producers are getting desperate, of course.

posted 17:00 :

Three of my Top Ten linkers have a book out this month...

1) Girl with a One-track Mind: Confessions of the Seductress Next Door
by Abby Lee from girl with a one track mind [published 3rd August]
Top blogger gets book deal - hurrah! Top blogger sweats for months to deliver manuscript - phew! Top blogger serialised in Sunday Times - hurrah! Top blogger appears stacked up on Charing Cross Road - hurrah! Top blogger outed by Sunday Times journalistic scum - gutted! Top blogger has best-selling paperback - bittersweet.

2) Blood, Sweat and Tea: Real Life Adventures in an Inner-city Ambulance
by Tom Reynolds from random acts of reality [published tomorrow]
What's it really like rushing around East London aboard a London ambulance, battling ill health, public stupidity and mindless bureaucracy? If you've been reading Tom's insightful blog for the last three years, then you'll already have some idea. Now all of his best posts have been morphed and updated into a shiny new volume, available in all good bookshops from tomorrow. I've had an advance copy for a fortnight (which is one of the advantages of appearing on page 279), and it's amazing the gravitas which print brings to Tom's writing. Go on, stick a copy on your bookshelf. I remain worried, however, that I risk appearing in the sequel should I ever have a nasty accident at home and be forced to ring 999.

3) Tales of Mirth and Woe
by Alistair Coleman from Scaryduck [published 1st August?]
This book may be listed on Amazon but it's strange, I've heard nothing about it recently on Scary's site, nor seen it in the shops. I wonder if this is perhaps just another one of his stories...

[Please note that the official diamond geezer book is available today at your office photocopier (please staple top left) in 48 monthly archives]

posted 00:03 :

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

1/2: This afternoon, probably somewhere around teatime, diamond geezer will receive its half-millionth visitor. Actually that's not quite true, it'll just be the half-millionth time that a slightly ropey stats package has registered a unique visitor, which isn't the same thing at all. But what's quite interesting, to me at least, is to consider how and why these visitors have arrived here:
• 20% of my visitors arrived here via a search engine. Most of these poor deluded souls no doubt clicked here expecting that my site would yield the answer to some esoteric query, only to be disappointed by what they didn't find. I therefore shouldn't really count these hundred thousand as true visitors - they arrived here under false pretences.
• 40% of my visitors arrived here via another website. That's two hundred thousand arrivals via someone's else's blogroll, or because something I wrote got mentioned somewhere. I have no idea how many of these people ever came back again.
• 40% of my visitors arrived here direct, without clicking through from a search engine or any other website. Which is nice, because it suggests that at least two hundred thousand visitors have come here deliberately.
Let's explore that second category in a bit more depth. It's time once again for an update of my regular 'league table' of top linking blogs, ordered by volume of visitors clicking here from there. I've also included the 'highest climbers' since my last update back in February. Thank you all for linking. Go on, go check out a few of the following and return the favour...
  1) girl with a one track mind (↑15)
  2) arseblog
  3) casino avenue
  4) scaryduck
  5) blue witch
  6) random acts of reality
  7) my boyfriend is a twat (↑1)
  8) london underground
  9) linkmachinego
10) funjunkie 11) route 79
12) onionbagblog
13) london calling
14) planarchy (↑3)
15) big n juicy
16) troubled diva
17) d4d (↑1)
18) bitful
19) rodcorp (↑4)
20) stroppycow (↑14)
The next 20: 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40

Analysis suggests that the above list is the product of two particular types of bloglinks - slow drips and big bangs:
• Slow drip links send a steady flow of visitors here over a long period of time. A tiny 'diamond geezer' link might nestle quietly in the blogroll, perhaps sending a few passing clickers here every week, or perhaps used daily by the blog's owner. But those few clicks all mount up over months or even years and hey presto, a position in my Top 20. Thanks to all of you slow drippers - the blogosphere wouldn't work without you.
• And then there are big bang links, which appear on major(ish) blogs with high visitor traffic. One single prominent mention can attract hordes of visitors who suddenly, rightly or wrongly, descend to see what all the fuss is about. Just one big bang link can outrank a slow dripper in 24 hours flat, or even continue to gather readers three years later.

I can illustrate this by considering my new number one linking blog - girl with a one track mind. If you've never before visited this fine blog (not-worksafe), it's probably best described as "everything hot-blooded men wished girls thought about". Here's how the Girl ended up sending thousands of visitors my way:
• Back in February I was filling a slot on her blogroll and she was feeding me a slow dripper. This was merely foreplay.
• In March she thrashed me into submission to win best UK/Irish blog in the Bloggies, and my dribble-through increased.
• In April came an explosive bang when the Girl directed readers towards my April Fool post. Her passionate readers expected pussy, but all they got were kittens. None have yet sued for misdirection.
• And now she has a blockbuster paperback, recently sprawled across the media in a most unattractive manner. As thousands of new readers come across her daily, I continue to be on the receiving end of countless misguided infiltrations.
• End result: the Girl stands atop my pile, astride all opposition.

In conclusion I'd like to thank everyone - all the slow drippers, the big bangers and especially those of you who arrive here unaided - because every click-through is appreciated. Here's to the next half million...

posted 07:00 :

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Blimey - I'm being quoted in high places!
In praise of... wheelie bags
If you see people pulling something behind them these days, especially during the holiday season, it is more likely to be a bag than a dog. The invention of the wheelie is one of those things - such as hard hats and shopping trolleys - that seem so blindingly obvious in retrospect it is a wonder it did not happen earlier. But it did not...

Not everyone approves, particularly those at the receiving end of a battalion of them thundering down the platform or collecting at the bottom of an escalator. One London blogger called them "the instruments of the devil" used by people who decelerate without warning and fail to signal before swerving in front of you. Clearly he thinks there ought to be some kind of driving test. But to most travellers they are one of those unsung inventions that make life a bit easier and reduce back strain. The past few days could have been even worse for the thousands stranded in airports as a result of the terrorism threat but for a pilot's bright idea less than 20 years ago.

Leader column, The Guardian, 15 August 2006 Case study
Londoners have fallen in love with a new pet. These special travelling companions go everywhere with their mistresses and masters, always following on very close behind. They come in all shapes and sizes, they stand alert by one's side when not required and they have to be carried on escalators... I am of course talking about wheelie suitcases.

These instruments of the devil are everywhere across the capital, usually directly in front of you. I'm sure they weren't around in any great numbers a year ago, but now all of a sudden it appears that everybody has to have one... Many of those people manoeuvring wheelie suitcases around town have clearly never passed a driving test in their lives. They cut you up, they decelerate without warning, they fail to signal before swerving out in front of you, they block the path of oncoming traffic and they collide with your nearside without ever stopping to give you the address of their insurance company.

This blog, 8 September 2003
The leader writers at the Guardian are obviously very late, and very wrong, but I'll let them off just this once.

posted 17:30 :

fivelinks
• In case you didn't spot my hidden link last week, you can now play Repton, Chuckie Egg, Hopper and other 80s computer game classics online. Not that I'm recommending you waste your whole day at work clearing away the diamonds, you understand.
• The latest YouTube star is geriatric1927 (or 78-year old Peter from somewhere in central England). He only published his first two minute video ten days ago but now, eight videos later, he's been viewed 300000 times to worldwide acclaim. Just for being himself. Fair warms the cockles of your heart, it does.
• London Walks for your mp3 player - gosh, that's a good idea. Includes Soho, Greenwich and the City, amongst others, so far. [via Londonist]
• With the emergence last night of BBC1's "The One Show", comparisons are already being made to 70s current affairs legend Nationwide. Sorry Adrian and Nadia, but there is no comparison - Nationwide was tons better. Click 1969 on this timeline and you can even reacquaint yourself with Herbie the skateboarding duck.
• This month's dg kitten experience is brought to you by Mister Herman's Cat Games. Discover 48 ways to torment a cat, including "Kitty Under Glass", "Tape the Kitty's Paws", "Sleepy Kitty Surprise" and far, far worse. Nobody would ever actually play one of these games, obviously, would they? [via in4mador]

posted 07:00 :

Oh boy, Blogger is about to change. They've left our Blogger blogging interface alone for a couple of years, but now it seems that a new beta version is ready to be rolled out. Why am I so nervous? We're promised dynamic serving (which should speed publishing up a lot), we're promised "labels" (which seems to be a new word for "tags"), we're promised new site feed settings (ho hum) and we're promised additional privacy (should we want it). But all Blogger users are going to be forced to sign up for a Google Account in the process, and once we've switched to the new version we can't switch back. Apparently I'm one of the rare few to have been offered the opportunity to switch on day one, but so far I've resisted the temptation. Has anybody else out there taken the plunge into the buggy beta version? Am I being over-cautious. Or are Blogger about to bugger everything up again?

posted 01:00 :

Monday, August 14, 2006

Results:
My northernmost reader: Björn Friðgeir in Reykjavik, Iceland [64°09'N, 21°55'W]
My westernmost reader: Damien in Eugene, Oregon, USA [44°03'N, 123°06'W]
My easternmost reader: ChrisG in Beachlands, Auckland, New Zealand [36°53'S, 175°0'E]
My southernmost reader: EnZedGasMan in Wellington, New Zealand [41°17'S, 174°47'E]
(unless, of course, you know different)

posted 23:59 :

Are you my northernmost reader?
Comments
Take a look in the comments box above and, if you live closer to the North Pole than the current record holder, tell me where you are and we'll see if anyone can beat you.

Are you my westernmost reader?
Comments
Take a look in the comments box above and, if you live closer to the International Date Line (West) than the current record holder, tell me where you are and we'll see if anyone can beat you. Bow
London
E3 Are you my easternmost reader?
Comments
Take a look in the comments box above and, if you live closer to the International Date Line (East) than the current record holder, tell me where you are and we'll see if anyone can beat you.

Are you my southernmost reader?
Comments
Take a look in the comments box above and, if you live closer to the South Pole than the current record holder, tell me where you are and we'll see if anyone can beat you.

posted 08:00 :

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Silver discs (August 1981)
A monthly look back at the top singles of 25 years ago

The three best records from the Top 10 (11th August 1981)
Human League - Love Action (I Believe In Love): It was in this week 25 years ago that both the Human League and Duran Duran launched into the UK Top 10 for the very first time. With the mewl of an electronic cat and the snapping of camera shutters, the future suddenly became mainstream. The decade would never look back. Love Action thrust half-fringe Phil and his jiving Saturday girls into full public glare. It's still a brilliantly inventive record, every layer glistening with its own hooky melody. Meanwhile Hard Times lay wasted on the B side, never quite making it onto the album Dare because vinyl had insufficient capacity. Love and Dancing, anybody? [TotP] [video]
"I’ve had my hard times in the past, I’ve been a husband and a lover too, I’ve lain alone and cried at night over what love made me do"
Duran Duran - Girls On Film: How do you make the leap from New Romantic also-rans to world class music icons? You launch a flash record into the Top 10 and then promote it with an unashamedly pornographic video. Producers Godley and Creme set out to court controversy by filming six minutes of slinky pouting models wearing not much, from pole-dancing pillow fights to the notorious final mud-wrestling sequence. But did any of us actually see this rampant nipplefest when we were impressionable teenagers? Did we hell. Newborn MTV demanded heavy censorship while the BBC banned the video outright. It's only thanks to YouTube that I've finally been able to watch the scenes I'd been missing out on for 25 years, and... no, Mary Whitehouse would never have tried that with an ice cube, would she? [watch the full uncensored video here]
"See them walking hand in hand across the bridge at midnight, heads turning as the lights flashing out it's so bright, then walk right out to the fourline track, there's a camera rolling on her back"
Electric Light Orchestra - Hold on Tight: By contrast, Jeff Lynne's ELO had graced the Top 10 on several previous occasions. Most early 80s homes owned at least one slice of ELO vinyl, most probably 1977's epic Out of the Blue, although this latest single was a bit of a departure. Gone were the trademark classical strings, updated for the new decade with synthesisers and whining guitars, and this was a storming track. But the concept album era was on the wane, and the band's future lay ultimately in a never-ending succession of repackaged greatest hits CDs. This single well deserves its place therein. [video]
"When you get so down that you can't get up, and you want so much but you're all out of luck, when you're so downhearted and misunderstood, just over & over & over you could"

My favourite three records from August 1981 (at the time)
Aneka - Japanese Boy: Sorry, but as a teenager I enjoyed a good novelty record as much as the next spotty oik. Never mind that the geisha singing this quasi-oriental track was really a Scottish housewife in a rather blatant ginger wig, I loved it. Never mind her expressionless air hostess smile or the two chopsticks poking out of the top of her head, this was cheesy holiday camp brilliance. Never mind. Two follow -up singles failed miserably to dent UK public consciousness, so Mary Sandeman returned to her day job as an ordinary mezzo soprano Scottish folk singer. But at least one with a chart-topping hit in her closet, which is more than Isla St Clair ever managed. [watch, if you dare]
"Was it something I said or done that made him pack his bags up and run, could it be another he's found, it's breaking up a happy home"
Thompson Twins - Perfect Game: Before the Thompson Twins were famous, well before they were famous, there was Perfect Game. This track was raw, it was under-produced, it was about the taboo subject of mental illness and it knocked some of the band's later more successful singles into the shadows. Back in 1981 the band weren't yet a threesome - more a giant post-punk double-digit collective with a penchant for percussion and African rhythms. Tom and Alannah had recently met in neighbouring Clapham squats (and yes, she had frizzy trademark hair even back then). Perfect.
"Somebody's crying now, his head is full of pain, taken to the building where they're playing the perfect game"
...and then there was a Northern Soul cover version. I think I'll do that due justice next month. August has enough classics already.
"Sometimes I feel I've got to run away..."

15 other hits from 25 years ago: One In Ten (UB40), For Your Eyes Only (Sheena Easton), Show Me (Dexy's Midnight Runners), Walk Right Now (Jacksons), Beachboy Gold (Gidea Park), Si Si Je Suis Un Rock Star (Bill Wyman), Startrax Club Disco (Startrax), Hand Held In Black And White (Dollar), I Love Music (Enigma), Wunderbar (Tenpole Tudor), Fire (U2), Backfired (Debbie Harry), Rainy Night In Georgia (Randy Crawford), Chemistry (Nolans), Arabian Nights (Siouxsie and the Banshees) ...which hit's your favourite? ...which one would you pick?

posted 00:25 :

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Becks writes his life story (in words of one syll-a-ble)

i am born in the east end
i love my mum, i love my dad
i am dead good at ball games.

i am signed by the man u team
my first game is at home to leeds
i am so cute and skill.

i meet posh spice, we shag
she makes me wear a dress, then we wed
look... one, two, three boys!

i score lots of goals from free kicks
oops, a bad foul, i am sent off
now all the fans hate me.

i play so well i get made big team boss
my face sells specs in the far east
cor, see my tatts!

sven takes a shine to me
my foot breaks, but mends in time for the world cup
we lose, sob.

i change my hair a lot
a quiff, then blond, all cropped, a fin, then braids
like a big girl.

fergs throws a boot at me, ouch, he is mean
i don't like man u no more
i tell all in the sun

i go play in spain
i am a brand, i am a star, i am a god
but i'm not as good as i was.

one last world cup chance
a red card ends it all
new boss steve says no thanks, bye.

posted 00:10 :

Friday, August 11, 2006

I'm off by train to Norfolk this morning. It's a very straight-forward journey - a short bus ride up to Stratford station, buy a ticket, pass through the barriers and hop aboard a fast train out east. But I wonder how different things might now be, were I to try to make the same trip in two years' time...

Monday, August 11, 2008

07:00 Exit house
07:01 Walk to Stratford rather than waste time trying to board the Armoured Bendy Bus
07:25 Arrive at Stratford Domestic Fortress - join long queue to enter station
07:40 Preliminary security check - sneered at by police dog
07:48 Undergo compulsory fingerprinting and electronic ID check
07:49 Accidentally mistaken for terrorist suspect with similar name to myself
07:50 Wait in quarantine zone while policewoman confirms I'm not a 67 year-old Nigerian female
08:41 Allowed to return to queue as fellow passengers give me suspicious looks
08:54 Exchange pre-booked ticket for biometric boarding pass
08:55 Place boarding pass inside clear plastic bag
08:56 Surrender newspaper, apple, biro, bottle of water and other dangerous hand luggage and place in incinerator provided
08:58 Suitcase taken away for detailed forensic examination
09:03 Remove shoes and other superfluous items of clothing which might be harbouring explosive padding
09:05 Walk through electronic security scanner, which then beeps for no reason because they always bloody do
09:06 Patted down by scary bearded security guard using her large rubber wand
09:11 Replace trousers and continue into station
09:16 All documentation triple-checked before being allowed to enter the platform
09:19 Genitals sniffed by fierce-looking police hound
09:20 Train is not due for well over an hour, but I was expecting those security checks to take longer
10:25 Starting to lose the will to live
10:38 Announcement that train will arrive 45 minutes late due to "additional security protocols at Liverpool Street"
11:53 Train actually arrives 75 minutes late due to "decamping suspicious looking passengers at Bethnal Green"
11:54 Take pre-assigned seat in extra-secure carriage and fasten safety belt
11:59 In-train attendants begin 5 minute safety demonstration "for the benefit of passengers joining the train at Stratford"
12:04 Train departs
12:33 Still nothing to do but re-read the safety instructions or stare at the blacked-out windows
12:47 Bloke comes round pushing trolley selling security-cleared beverages
12:55 & 14:32 & 15:25 Similarly long and tedious waits at Colchester, Ipswich and Stowmarket
16:06 This journey may be damned slow and bloody boring but hey, at least it's safe
16:42 Finally arrive at rural Norfolk station in one piece
16:43 Terrorist group explode bomb in Yorkshire shopping centre instead

posted 07:00 :

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Carbon audit, anyone?

It's official. We're all destroying the environment through our thoughtless production of huge amounts of carbon dioxide. If we continue at this rate there won't be a planet left for our grandchildren to enjoy, and that would be a bad thing. So the government is to take firm and decisive action to safeguard the future... by introducing an optional carbon audit. I've reproduced part of it below. Imagine the enormous impact on climate change if a few people take this online survey and maybe change their behaviour a bit, for a few weeks. The whole planet could be saved. Go on, click away and play your part.

1) Do you own a car?
a) Yes, I have a really big 4x4 and I drive it very fast (200 tonnes)
b) Yes, but I only use it to drive to the bottle bank and back (5 tonnes)
c) No, I bicycle everywhere because I'm an environmental angel (0 tonnes)
2) Do you ever fly abroad on holiday?
a) Yes, but no more than five times a year (500 tonnes)
b) Sometimes, but I prefer caravanning instead (70 tonnes)
c) No, I always spend my holidays at home fitting loft insulation (0 tonnes)
3) Have you fitted energy efficient light bulbs?
a) No, don't be silly, they cost more (80 tonnes)
b) Yes, but only when one of my normal bulbs blows (4 tonnes)
c) No need, I'm sitting here in the dark instead (0 tonnes)
4) Do you offset your carbon emissions?
a) Yes, I often pay for a new pine forest to be planted (-500 tonnes)
b) Yes, I've installed a wind turbine on the roof (-250 tonnes)
c) No, but I've tried to cut down on eating baked beans (-5 tonnes)
5) Have you been breathing recently?
a) No, I've been holding my breath for the last five minutes trying to prevent excessive carbon dioxide emissions (0 tonnes)
b) Blimey, I never realised breathing was bad for the environment - I'll stop now (0 tonnes)
c) Yes, sorry, but it's no good saving the planet if I can't live to enjoy it (1000 tonnes)
[hang on, this might be a real carbon audit here]

posted 07:00 :

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Why the NHS is utterly brilliant

I've been lucky in my life so far. I've only been into hospital twice - once to be born and then again a few years later to have an ingrowing toenail removed. I'd still be alive today even without a national health service. My middle-aged body hasn't seriously malfunctioned yet, not as far as I know, and I'm still here unassisted. Not all of you might have been so fortunate. One single accident, illness or condition might already have stopped you in your tracks before you reached the age you are now. But you're still here, because modern medicine patched you up, for free. And I'd really miss you if you weren't here.

posted 07:00 :

Why the NHS is truly buggered

<arrive home to find automated message on answerphone, as follows>

Automated female voice 1: <official name of hospital>
Automated female voice 2: Patients at this hospital now have access to a personal telephone at their bedside. You can call this patient directly without going through the hospital switchboard or disturbing the nurses. Calls are charged at 39 pence per minute off peak and 49 pence per minute at all other times. The telephone number you need to dial is...
Automated female voice 3: <0><7><0><4><6> <3><8> <x><x><x><x>
Automated female voice 2: Let me repeat those details again for you. You can contact...
Automated female voice 4: <Ms> <horribly mispronounced name of patient>
Automated female voice 2: ...in...
Automated female voice 1: <official name of hospital>
Automated female voice 2: ...and their personal telephone number is...
Automated female voice 3: <0><7><0><4><6> <3><8> <x><x><x><x>
Automated female voice 2: Friends and family often choose to make a gift purchase of TV and telephone time using their credit card. If you would like to arrange this, please call 0800 959 3100. Any unused credit can be fully refunded on request.

<deep sigh, and ring extortionately-priced telephone number>

Coming soon (no doubt):
• dial-a-ride ambulances (please swipe your Oyster card on entrance and exit)
• McDonalds franchises for in-hospital catering
• £5 surcharge on flowers not purchased from the stall in the foyer
• hourly admission charges for visitors (blood relatives half price)
• pedalo hospital trolleys
• coin-in-the-slot anaesthetic in the operating theatre
• your choice of 'Economy', 'Standard' or 'Deluxe' nursing
• free upgrades to private healthcare with new NHS Reward Points

posted 06:30 :

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Some people moan too much. If the weather's too hot, they'll moan. If the weather's too cold, they'll moan. If the air conditioning isn't turned down to exactly the temperature... no, not that far, up a degree, oh for heaven's sake can't you even get that right you moron... they'll moan. Everything is flawed, everything is imperfect, and everything is someone else's fault.

Bloggers are particularly good at moaning. My journey into work this morning, you wouldn't believe how bad it was. That new government initiative, it's rubbish isn't it? I've spotted somebody who thinks differently to me, the idiot, here's why they're wrong. Oh yes, if you need an easy target for debate, just pull something (or someone) apart.

Of course not all moaning is a bad thing. Constructive criticism can often be helpful. Complaining about poor customer service is almost always justified. Trying to change the world through the ballot box is the cornerstone of democracy. But for some people, too many people, moaning is a pointless negative emotion which all too easily spirals out of control.

If you're watching a football match on TV, shouting at the screen doesn't make your team play any better. If you're waiting for a delayed train, stamping your feet up and down the platform never makes it arrive any sooner. If you're diagnosed with something potentially serious, griping about it won't make you healthier any quicker. Sometimes you have no control whatsoever over your situation - you're in the hands of others - and moaning really doesn't help anybody.

So today I just wanted to salute those amongst us who have every reason to moan, but don't. Those who surprise others by getting on with their life where others might expect them to grumble. Those who know that some things are better faced up to than confronted. I hope I'd be like that if I were ever in a similar situation. And, if I were, at least now I know where I get it from.

posted 07:00 :

Blimey. MSN Search UK have decreed that diamond geezer is one of the "30 best blogs" on the internet. Which is very kind of them, if completely misguided. They've decided to split their shortlist of "essential online diaries" into six categories, as follows , and I'm completely mystified by the classification they've selected for me. Go on, which category do you think best fits my blog? And then check. Surely not?

posted 00:30 :

Monday, August 07, 2006

Town v Country: where do you feel safer?

Here's a fairly typical London subway. It's gloomy, it's secluded and it's just that bit too quiet. Walk down here and you're on your own... or rather you hope you are. Is that something moving in the shadows up ahead, or someone? If it's a gang of local youths approaching, will they demand your wallet at knifepoint or will they just walk on by? It's easy to let your imagination run away with you in an urban hellhole like this. And yet walking through this subway didn't worry me at all. Not one negative thought flashed through my head - I just kept my eyes open and walked confidently ahead. Other people approached but I didn't quiver, not once, and nothing untoward happened. I even flashed my camera around in a 'please steal me' kind of a way, but nobody did. Maybe it's over-confidence, but I have no irrational fear of urban crime.

Here, on the other hand, is a typical Home Counties field. A swathe of rolling grassland leads down to a wooded river valley, miles away from the grime and bustle of the modern city. Gorgeous isn't it? I was there yesterday afternoon, soaking up every ounce of rural charm. Birds soared overhead, butterflies frolicked in the vegetation and the sun beat down upon my sweaty brow. What could be more peaceful? And yet, standing here taking this photograph, I was nervous as anything.

I can't walk down a country footpath without fearing what might be round the next corner. It's not so much the humans I worry about as the canine companions they might have brought with them. Yes, I know that a rural footpath is perfect for exercising frisky dogs and that they have every right to be here. And yes I know that responsible dog owners always keep their dogs under control when others pass by. But from a distance I can't differentiate an off-leash controlled dog from a manic ill-trained beast, and I have a tendency to imagine the worst. The very last thing I want to meet out here in the middle of nowhere is a bouncy over-friendly hound yapping round my ankles... or maybe even higher. I'd rather experience only the natural wildlife, thank you very much, and never have to worry about the motives of four-legged visitors.

So, against the generally accepted view of things, I feel safer in urban areas. Rural footpaths give me the willies, and I never feel at ease while I'm walking along one. I'm getting better - I managed several at the weekend - but I still tend not to go walking in the countryside as often as I might. Which is a shame. And I suppose I should count myself extremely fortunate that I've never (yet) suffered any form of violent experience on the streets of London which might deter me from venturing outdoors in the city as well. If being hounded is the worse of my fears, life can't be all bad.

posted 07:00 :

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