Wise Words About The Blog…
Crikey, I’m glad I checked with you lot, as I was hitting despair-level workload yesterday and was very serious about binning the blog. I’m still meeting publishers to see what they think, but I learned a lot from your feedback. First, lack of response never bothers me – some subjects don’t really require a response.
Second, I love it when readers go off on tangents (I’m looking at you, Helen) and notice when people are absent. Terenzio? Snowy? Bueller? Answer your names on the register please. I miss Dan Terrell. Has anyone tried to contact him with a Ouija yet?
Third, you all seem to imagine I check reader stats. Oh, how we laughed. No, I don’t I could but frankly there aren’t enough hours in the day etc.
So, to the mix of the blog. It’s easier to vary the mix in London (where I am now – sunny day, fresh winds, denuding trees, ‘Winter Is Coming’ – I’m sorry, I can’t help it if you don’t watch GoT) than in Barcelona because, hey, London is nothing if not in yer face. Barcelona is a richly interesting working city with an extraordinarily good lifestyle, the best city beaches in Europe and plenty to stimulate the intellect, but London has the edge because it flings so many subjects at anyone who has an ounce of curiosity. So, a better blog mix when I’m here, also because it’s a more indoor society and ultimately blogging is an indoor pursuit.
It looks like you’re prepared to put up with this ragbag of things I stumble across. Clearly Iâ€™ll have to continue if only to stop reader David Donaldson from joining the Sunâ€™s Fantasy Football League in its place. And so to today’s tidbit.
Hurtling through the gruesome ghost train that is the Gatwick Airport Express, I arrived back in London sensibly dressed while all the red-faced English landed from their Southern European flights dressedÂ as giant toddlers, and had a laugh at them, only to find it was a baking, glorious day, and my backpack – which always seems to weigh a ton even though it only contains a book and a T-shirt (it’s my technology that drags it down) – was leaving a wet patch on my back.
So I dumped the bag and all my warm clothes, and shot back out to meet a friend whose birthday it was, emerging from a pub to find it pouring with rain and freezing, and me in aforementioned T-shirt. Diving intoÂ Piccadilly Circus tube station I spotted this art installation in the rotunda. Piccadilly Circus is one of the few relatively unmucked-about-with stations, working like a great underground wheel of marble and copper. The clever thing about the art is that it uses the same signage protocols and is designed to look like it’s been there forever – I’m surprised he was allowed to do it. I mean, I presume it’s art, what else could it be?
Anyway, it could stand as the motto for the blog, with one small amendment; replace ‘perfection’ with ‘foolish joy’.