Money, That's What I Want

I want money, that's what I want.

An Interesting Tractor.

Memories

I haven't heard this track for more than thirty five years. I do recall two of a cousin's sons, aged between six and nine, perhaps, staring goggle eyed at the sleeve upon discovering it as they riffled, uninvited, through my album collection, sometime in the early seventies.

Hank Williams

Cherokee Boogie

Bayou Pom Pom One Step

Allons a Lafayette

Amédé Ardoin

Les Veuves de la Coulee

Valse de Balfa

Too Much Excitement for One Day

Living, as I do, quite close to a civil aerodrome belonging to a 'major player' in the 'defence industry' and just a very few miles from [what is only just] an international airport, I've had to overcome my inner schoolboy and no longer dash outside every time an aircraft flies overhead (at my age): almost always the source of excitement is a Typhoon or a budget airline Boeing and one can only see so many before complacency sets in. This afternoon, therefore, I ignored the roar of a low flying piston engined aeroplane until I realised, as it disappeared into the distance that it was powered by a Rolls-Royce Merlin. Happily it has made several passes overhead since the early afternoon and I've had an opportunity to see a Hawker Hurricane, a sight I've seen only once, or at most twice, before. High above the Hurricane were the vapour trails of jet airliners criss-crossing the sky, a reminder that the eight gun fighter was originally conceived and developed as the only effective means of intercepting and destroying the heavy bombers of the day, according to John Terraine, in his book The Right of The Line.

There's never a dull moment in Lytham.

I like this sort of thing:

Pat Condell (Again)

Oh Happy Day

As I sit here with the window open I can hear the sounds of machine gun fire accompanied by sharp bangs (it's aboslutely true). Is it too much to hope that the long awaited revolution has started? Should I gather as many bottles as I can and start syphoning the petrol from my neighbours' cars (only a fool would use his own at current prices). Perhaps not. The sound of gunfire has died away and a desultory cheer has just gone up. It looks as though the revolution is over. Bugger, I've missed out again.

Typing was interrupted by the telephone. A foreign voice claiming to represent a 'research' company said it wished to ask me some questions. This time it was about the 'technology' I use in my home. 'Can I ask you some questions?' the foreign voice asked. 'No' the English voice replied and 'click' went the 'phone. That's the third time in a fortnight that I've been bothered by such people.

Stop press: The machine gunning must have been part of some sort of opening display for Lytham Proms, which is being presented as I type. Lesley Garrett has been performing and someone is singing the Liverpool FC anthem, which has brought a smile to the face of The Mrs Gruff (a Scouser).

Not My Thing But ...

I thought the references to Scunthorpe Town were particularly amusing.

Roy Orbison

Here's One for Shorty.

I can never hear this without laughing to the point of splitting my sides.



Poor old Shorty; he seemed not to understand that there is more to being 'big' than being tall and talking tough. I wonder what he's doing now.

Believe It or Not.

According to this web-site, and others presumably, the mainland length of the British coastline, including every 'squiggly bit', at the mean high water mark is 11,073 miles.

Solar Homesteading and Alice's Restaurant: You Can Get Anything You Want

Triumph Hurricane

I've only ever seen one, and that was in the early seventies, when my wallet stretched to fifty quid for a ratty Royal Enfield and bikes such as the Hurricane were firmly in the realms of fantasy. The machine I saw must have been quite new and I did not know what it was until later. It's a beautiful machine and I'd love one, even though I think it 'sits' too high and is orange and yellow and has at least one too many silencers, and forks that are far too long. I have always disliked the stretched-leg, tip-toe seat height of modern motorcycles. A lower version, with a seat height more nearly that of the Lycett Saddle of a vintage motorcycle would enhance the impresion of length suggested by the smooth flowing contours of the seat and tank moulding and add considerably to the Hurrican'e visual appeal.

A Royal Enfield 'Should Have Been'

This is nice:



This is what its builder has done with it:



Here it is with pipes and silencers:



Very nice, and it sounds right too. I'm a fan of Enfields, having once owned one, and I hope this is put into production but I can't see myself having the cash to buy one should it be. I'd love one.

Kenny Everett and David Essex

Peter Gunn

Real Wild Child

Fictionality TV

Finely observed; the characterisations are absolutely spot on, as anyone who has ever worked with a Vince Flannigan will know.