Passwords

Give Them An Inch

 

A contribution from fellow long suffering communter Dirk is long overdue; heres the first of a number that are backed up: 

There are an infinite number of ways to get my goat these days, and two of my most excitable ones were so peeved by what I witnessed today that they broke free of the leash and leapt the fence separating the two station car-parks.  

To the bald man with the Musto back-pack who parked his white Volvo behind me this morning at the station…shame on you.  It was the flash of gobby whiteness in my peripheral vision that first caught my attention and I was quietly fuming at this in my wing-mirror when I witnessed him hold open the door, have a quick check around to see if anybody was looking and then reach inside and pull out an empty can of coke, some crisp packets and random packaging.  All this he chucked out onto the tarmac before kicking the whole lot under his car.  I have no doubt that this is a regular occurrence, this is how people like him clean their cars and since I already had reason to hate him I decided to prove that I’d clocked his behaviour by giving a hoot on my horn.  

His furtiveness betrayed the fact that he did at least realise that what he was doing was antisocial so It was hardly a confrontation and several leagues short of making a citizen’s arrest but I did at least provoke a staring contest which I subsequently won,  for as he rounded the back of the car still scowling at me he clipped his knee quite sharply on the bumper.  As Louis L’Amour was wont to say, “Victory is won not in miles but in inches”.   

He gave me that inch and I took a mile.      

Ethan W Makes My Day

Now, I don't know Ethan Walmark anymore than in all probability do you. Young Ethan is six years old, he's one hell of a piano player and he's cheered my morning up no end on what is another wet and windy April morning. By the way, Ethan is autistic. Have a great life young man.

Update on Monday, April 30, 2012 at 4:16PM by Hunk of Junk

According to the Washington Post, Billy Joel has indeed seen Ethan play his tune on the web. He said,

“I think I like his intro to “Piano Man” better than mine. And this kid plays with a lot more energy than me. Maybe he could teach me a few things.”

If you suddenly have some grit in your eye, feel free to pull out a hankie..

Whatever Became Of Fiona?

Last night I was throwing together another eclectic playlist for the delectation of future guests at Crumble Towers when I chanced upon a track I haven’t heard for a very long time, Different Drum, (oddly enough was written by Mike Nesmith of the Monkees). It's a great track, well until some girl you're in love with plays it to you because she's too inarticulate, embarrassed or callous to tell you you're history. Never happened to me obviously.

But how could I have forgotten how fantastic Linda Ronstadt was and which teenage boy didn’t harbour deeply unchristian thoughts about her….. well, until Debbie Harry came along, certainly? You see, any readers not growing up in the seventies may not be aware that the decade wasn’t at all about punk rock and miners strikes; no, it was about Linda, Debbie, Farrah, the girl in the flake advert, Anni-Frid and Agnetha, Bo and lets not forget, Fiona McDonald who lived down the lane, (wonder where she is now?), who apart from an unfortunate propensity to completely ignore me was, in the eyes of a growing Highland, boy, drop-dead-gorgeous……….. don’t think she ever spoke to me you know. I'm not bitter.

More Than A Handful

Our German friends at Das Bild newspaper have once again demonstrated their unquenchable enthusiasm for the pursuit and furtherment of knowledge and have, with admirable academic rigour, published this map in an article titled, "Russian Women Have The Tightest Baskets."

Of course, some of us of a certain age still remember the wonderful site that greeted the weary driver as one approached the Earls Court Road / Cromwell Road Junction and yes, she just looked just fantastic on a 60ft billboard. What is there not to love about a campaign with the strapline, "D – G; Because we’re more than a handful" I give you Eva Herzigová, inter galactic model of the millenia: