The Original Drifters

Armet Ertegun...ever heard of him? Perhaps not the name but his influence spanned far and wide. There is a great chance you would have heard and danced to at least one of the songs from his label, Atlantic Records. In fact it was Armet that influenced Led Zep so much that in 2007 they reunited for the first time in bloody ages to do a concert in his memory.

Anyway I'm getting distracted. A friend of mine had her picture taken with Ray Lewis of the Drifters at her Marbella hotel the other week. Nice guy, great voice but not of the original lineup, and not in the Drifters when they had all their successes. Something I modestly pointed out in the photo comments. She replied 'well he's part of the Original Drifters group and was a lovely bloke.' Yes, he is part of the group the Drifters which now goes around hotels and small arena venues under the name The Original Drifters but not the original Drifters lineup. Made me feel rate annoyed it did. I was going to re comment but thought it was best to leave sleeping dogs lie and all that stuff.

Armet didn't choose Ray Lewis.

First for a while and the last

for a while, anyway. I'm not quite ready for leaving the blog-o-sphere yet and am still strongly considering a half memoir project next year describing my experiences as a lay Catholic man in state-run education.

My boss is really annoying me at the minute. She sends me things she has written then writes all over them and expects me to change them. I'm not her secretary. There are 3 working days left in the office for me including this one and there's no letup either! I have to do the same boring run of the mill routine jobs before I leave. My Mum keeps reminding me "there's only X days left, stay with it, don't ruin it now." The thing is, I've written so much for my exit interview that if anyone actually reads it before I leave then I'll probably receive a hard kick up the posterior. The text read, "This is your opportunity to provide COMPANY with a considered view of your mission and raise key issues." Before this it reads "your exit interview will be circulated to your line manager, divisional director, the director of people management and the Director of COMPANY." So I may not get invited to corporate drinks receptions either! Never mind; these are the times when you can really upset the apple cart and considering my Granny Smiths have never toppled I supposed my parting shot should be a good'un.

And I never came across as bitter, did I?!

...

As I type this blog from my thoughts I cannot help but let the tears drip down my sun burnt face. My heart is heavy, my throat is dry and my head hurts with emotion.


I was just reading the profiles of the 12 people murdered by Derrick Bird in Cumbria yesterday. I had the privilege of visiting Cockermouth and Whitehaven in December and was struck by it's friendliness, peace and great sense of community. That community is now ripped apart, stained by the awful awful events of the last 24 hours. As a Christian I wonder how my faith is going to stand up amidst this utter heartache. How can a man who, well liked by his friends, go on a rampage killing 12 people and wounding 11 more? It's not just those people. He has hurt every one with a social conscience, with a heart, with a care for human beings.


At this moment I'm not praying for him. I'm praying for the retired couple he murdered and their family. I'm praying for the murdered rugby player and his friends and family, I'm praying for the unmarried lady in her 70s who was delivering home shopping catalogues when she was killed. I'm praying for you; if you are reading this and you are hurt or have been affected by this.

I cried on my way to work this morning. I'm sure lots of other were crying in their beds last night. They were crying with their families and friends, on their own, in their heart. This country will cry too.

The old waiting game

I hope my boss has gone into the office today. I say this because I handed my notice in on Monday, leaving it in a prominent place over her keyboard today. I have received carbon copies of her emails today so either she has read it and isn't speaking to me, or she is working from home. Is she is at home, then that means I have to watch her reaction as she reads it and, as I detest confrontation, I will not look forward to it. It could indeed damage the working relationship however I hope that it won't.

Listening to the Night

Last night the birds were singing so serenely. It was the most beautiful sound as I dozed whilst reading a book. It was just me and the birds. A particularly romantic blackbird serenaded me through the bedroom window. I closed my eyes and savoured the moment.


Driving through Leicestershire's countryside every other day means I see both the dawn breaking and the earth closing down. I see the birds flickering over the deep blue morning sky, and the warm golden first light warms my arms as they rest on the door of the car.


But I also see some not so nice images. Tyre marks churn up the ground and fly tippers leave shopping trolleys full of gunk at the side of the road. There's bins overflowing and recycling boxes empty, empty buses and tonnes of cars. Then there's the roadkill. Oh! the roadkill. Foxes with their faces in a frozen moment of agony, a badger bending back on itself, birds with their fanned wings covered in red. Even the stoats and mice that clutter the road make me feel a little queasy.


As I turn from the A46 to the Thurssington road there's a moment of calm as I adjust the car to new driving conditions and then, if i'm lucky, I see the Peacock which lives in one of the larger country houses at the top of the road. It takes its time and waltzes, its crushendo of coloured feathers dragging at the back, and it's bluey greeny shiny head upright.


Then, as I washed the pots this evening, I thought I felt my old cat walk in between my legs. It wasn't though.

Sunny Morning (think the VE)

Last night there was for the first time in a very long time, an orange but also warm glow to the houses that face my bedroom window. The sun had managed to break through a little of the cloud and it was dressing my garden in beautiful golden light from above. It was beautiful.

I could wake from my drowsiness and really appreciate the early evening in all its glory. Watched a programme about whales last night; KILLER WHALES. It was awesome. They're really beautiful and quite amazing but they didn't get their name because they only eat plankton. It showed the whales throwing a seal into the air, like 20 metres into the air and all the blood and guts spraying out, only for the whale to grab it and thrash it about a bit then repeating the process.

Recently I have not been feeling myself (nor other people may I add.) I've been tired, drowsy and unable to concentrate to a certain extent. Off out at the weekend though and have been looking forward to this.

The Director came to visit yesterday. He bored me with his management speak and over efficient attitude to discussion. However I like what he says and, once you break through the sugar coated Directorate image and tuck into the moist chocolate brownie (he's white, may I add) then it's quite rich. He was saying things that people may not have wanted to hear but gave a clear and rational explanation as to why these changes were going through. Why mess about with the monkey when you can get close and personal with the organ grinder?

Anyway, enough of work, although i'll say this; in winter we 'broke' the radiator in the office so it would stay on. It's 24 c out there and the radiator is still on. Grrr! At least i'm wearing shorts this A.M

So it goes and so it went. Another day at work and another dollar or three. I've only just started work but i'm optimistic that, unlike the cloud that hung over our house for so long, that the day will fly by so quickly and I can enjoy the weekend! C'est la vie!

What a night

So I make my way into town; i'm feeling hopeful, happy and ready for a good match. As the sun shone down on the Market Square, and police amassed like bits of moss on victorian walls, I felt that there was something brewing in Nottingham. Extreme swearing and shouting confirmed it...Forest were in the second leg of the play offs against Blackpool at home. I managed to find a friend who is a Blackpool fan and sent them a tirade of abuse via text.

We scored...it seemed possible. We didn't take the overall lead but we did something special. A guy in the pub hugged me. I wasn't that pissed. All that changed.

DJ Campbell pulled out a second half hat trick and showed why he has been such a threat all season. Earny had a goal disallowed and everything sort of went hazy. You know when you step back and see things spiral out of control? We could chat all day about Forest's shoddy defence and out inability to penetrate the Tangerine Dream.

Then, as I was dragging my sorry arse up the hill to the bus stop I check my phone; texts saying that Tory Boy, David Cameron is the Prime Minister. Change has been the big buzz word for this campaign, and it's been a trial by Media. Gordon Brown really had no chance against an ex PR (and by that I mean Public Relations) man and Burlingdon Club member. I bet Boris IS pleased. The words I think are important are fairness, justice and equality. Good luck with that!

I feel so empty right now. Gordon Brown was the economic brain behind New Labour whilst always re-affirming the party's Old Labour beliefs and creed. Nick Cameron and David Clegg look the same, they act the same and have the same slimy characters. Two very different parties...I bet Lord Steel is very unhappy.

So there we go, it went tits up last night. My Dad said it was only a football match...that's no way to talk about the Election!