Modern LP's, a short whine

I was told that the print runs on modern vinyl records are less then what was thrown away as waste back in the heyday of Lp's.

To be honest I don't think I have bought a new pressing (excluding Japanese ones) that wasn't a real disappointment, and that was in spite of paying £20 or more for  them while the corresponding Cd's would be about £7. I even bought one (Third, Portishead) that had fingerprints *in* the vinyl!

It's not usually the sound quality,  records tend to be cut by the few craftsmen left. It's clicks pops and general noise, just simple poor handling by people who patently don't know what they are doing. You accept pressings that you would certainly have rejected in the 70's and 80's because that's all there is.

I end up buying most Lp's on eBay, obviously not anything new that way. For instance I now have the complete back catalogue of Roxy Music and Bryan Ferry that I never had the first time around :-) 

Of course it's a risky proposition they are often not as 'mint' as they are claimed to be, I  now have three original  copies of the wonderful Shirley Bassey (before you get any funny ideas this particular album has some absolutely cracking tracks) all look fine but are totally worn out and mistracked having been played on early 60's Dansettes, and I can't seem to get a decent copy of Pink Floyd's Wish you were here to save my life.

But oh, when you get a good copy of something, the sheer quality, involvement, space and imaging will take your breath away. I'm sorry, I'm a dinosaur, I don't download, digital leaves me cold (even though I will use CD because I have to) for sheer *communication* for that moment when your breath catches and you forget where you are *nothing* beats dragging a diamond through a wiggly groove.

bankers

Sir Fred Goodwin ( sexy but stupid) should he give back his £650 000 a year pension after presiding over Royal Bank of Scotland losing 24 billion? Yup, will he? No way, well would you?

Simple answer, shoot him, in fact shoot all of them and let God sort it out

(this also applies to prime ministers, chancellors and all the ex's back to and including Thatcher even though she's bonkers)

Problem solved, and if it isn't we'll all feel better :-)

don't read if easily bored.

I left mentioning this for a while as it angered me so much I was sure I would be even less coherent then usual.

Of course I'm talking of this outrage from the BBC  from the other week. As I thought I had the usual namby pamby reply from them trying to justify the unjustifiable. 

But what REALLY took the biscuit for me was the assertion that everything shown was carefully researched and had been carried out by LRA troops in Uganda. So that makes it OK.

Folks there is no hope for any of us. According to the BBC anything at all is acceptable to be shown on television as long as it has been carried out by some paramilitary group somewhere in the world. Just think about that. 

This is some sort of London cop series, it had Dennis Waterman in it which was the only reason I was watching it anyway. (I won't make that mistake again). It wasn't some ghastly documentary, not that even that would make it acceptable.

I could go on and on about this, but you'll be bored rigid. Needless to say I wrote back and told them what I thought of their 'justification' 

I also (actually wrote!) a formal letter of complaint to Ofcom.  Next will be the Rt Hon Andy Burnham MP,  the minister for culture media and sport (no I'd never heard of him either) the prime minister and anyone else I can think of.

Hopefully I'll have something fun to write about later on.

Slut for red

I was poking through my files and just came across this little piece which I wrote about 18-20 months ago. I don't know if it conjures quite the moment and feel that I wanted (It does to me, but then it would, I was there..) but I think this was the day I knew that in spite of all I may have said in the past I wanted to move back home.

I guess its the case of you can take the boy out of Wales but you cant take Wales out of the boy (thank you to Bonnie Tyler for that one)

Slut for red.

Waiting in the cosy slightly time warped reception area of a company importing musical instruments in Blaenu Gwent, the rain pouring outside I was listening to the conversation between the lovely curvaceous Welsh receptionist and her friend.

"I got that handbag at the weekend from Debenhams, it was so expensive even though it was on sale, John Rocha, All I could think of all of last week was that bag, then on Saturday I bought it. I finally had it. Oh but when I got it home I was so disappointed, the red boots that I bought it to match, it didn't, it was a completely different red, and as my mum and my husband  will tell you I'm a slut for red I am, now I don’t know what to do"

On my way out, I told her rather then taking the bag back obviously what she should do is to buy another pair of red boots.

One of those rare perfect moments in life, I would love to know what happened

b-a-t-h time

Does anyone still actually bathe anymore aside from people in adverts and sit-coms? I was thinking about it yesterday as having removed all the sealant I wasn't able to use the shower.

I only know of one person who does it regularly and this is the full on production with the bubble bath and the candles, the book and the glass of wine.. you'd think he'd know better.. 

Baths are things that take up most of the space in your bathroom but as far as I am concerned get used *maybe* once  a year when you have overdone digging in the garden and the back hurts. The rest of the time they get hosed out every couple of weeks to get rid of the dust and to renew the water seal in the u bend which tends to evaporate.. But you've got to have one - it's a bathroom.

I remember when we lived in Lincolnshire the bathroom there had this beautiful corner bath the size of a swimming pool (admittedly a small swimming pool :-) It looked absolutely gorgeous especially when selling the house with its careful arrangement colour coordinated bottles of bathtime goodies, tea lights in tasteful holders (I had advice) and fluffy towels over the side. It took up half the room, It never got used. At all.

Today the shower should be safe to use again and I can heave a huge sigh of relief and hopefully my fingers can recover from the onslaught of the Stanley blades.. 

 

Dismembering Jellyfish

Yesterday I was happily creating the boxing for the pipes in the cloakroom. Rather more complex then usual I've been thinking about exactly how to do it for days, so much so it was making my head hurt :-) So it was good to actually start the job. How come when you actually *do* something rather then think about it, it's way easier then you thought?

Later about to have a shower I slipped half into the shower, kicked the panel below it and hey presto I could finally see what was under the shower tray.

A complete lack of jewels and gold coins, it was mostly concrete blocks.. and damp. I had suspected, now I knew and I had to do something about it. I have no idea why it is, but every time you buy a house the sealant around the bath or shower has failed and usually (like here) all they have done is stick new sealant over the old mouldy stuff.

Leading to my favorite job. If there is any other way of removing the stuff other then a chisel/Stanley knife and a bare Stanley blade (shredding your fingers into the bargain) I have never found it.

Several years ago nirvana had been found, sealant 'eater'. you spread it on the offending stuff, left it an hour and it all just peeled off. It cost a fortune. It didn't work. So back to Mr Stanley and his ubiquitous knives.

Nasty, smelly (all that hidden mould) and disturbingly like dismembering jellyfish (but less fun) Was on my knees for hours, and actually ended up dismantling virtually the entire enclosure (and horrified to find it is held together with nothing *but* sealant).

Today is the day of nothing but errands, so I shall let the whole lot dry out, tomorrow I shall put it all back together (always with the sinking feeling that one day it'll all have to be done again)

There should be a point to this story. There isn't :-)

A Doris Day

Imagine if you can a minibus full of Little Welsh ladies all near identical,  turned out I am convinced  from a secret factory somewhere. 

Now imagine them all talking at each other, but none of them actually listening. If you should have seen Gavin and Stacy you will know exactly what I mean.  This was my yesterday.

I went with Mum on a minibus trip with the ladies from the flats where she lives, Bill the gentleman from upstairs who is an expert shopper couldn't make it so I was on my own.. We went Aberavon, the shopping centre that time forgot. 

I remember being taken there by Mum & Dad, I figure I was 15 or 16, it was brand new. At the time I don't think we were impressed, we certainly never went again. It's not changed in the intervening 30 years. At all.

Home of something that looks like a Body Shop but isn't, the seconds clothing stores, the charity shops and an Argos with it's 'laminated book of dreams', Wales really does not seem to have the rest of the world's love affair with the mall (for proof absolute see 'The St David's Centre' in Swansea). 

I know I far preferred the whats left of the High St where we had a poke around and a baked potato (with cheese beans and coleslaw) in a nice cafe. 

But the ladies all seemed to have enjoyed their day, though they weren't exactly loaded with purchases, Mum and I seemed to have been the biggest shoppers (I had a new doormat and Mum had a cold bag and a scrubbing brush) I don't think Port Talbot is going to be reviving it's fortunes from us..

A little surreal? There's talk of Cheltenham next....