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To Mr Harrington's in Hertford on Saturday night, giving the car one of its rare outings of more than five miles. The journey went smoothly until I approached junction 25 on the M25 - the exit I needed to get onto the A10.
A sign informed me that this exit was now closed, "for 78 weeks". Wow, a disturbingly accurate prediction there, I thought. Surely something like "re-opening mid-2008" would be acceptable?
However, of more pressing concern was that I had to drive all the way to exit 24, turn round on that roundabout, and drive back to exit 25 from the other way. It would have been cooler I think to have just smashed a hole in the central reservation and put up a sign saying "Don't want to drive 10 miles out of your way? Prepared to risk life and limb? Turn right here."
Geoff and Julie Challinger were down from Nottingham -- the Harringtons having gradually moved north over the years to the extent that I fully expect them to buy the house next door to Geoff and Julie just as Geoff decamps to Corsica.
Oakes also made an appearance, but then mysteriously disappeared. Odd.
The trip back was via another diversion, this time giving me the chance to sample the delights of Harlow and the A414 on the way to the M11 (god, I'm begining to sound like that character on "Early Doors"). But it still took me only an hour to get home.
++++++
Which all meant that I needed a nap yesterday afternoon to prepare for last night's trip to the Lyric Hammersmith for their annual benefit gig. Some good bits, some bits that well-exceeded any expectations, while others fell a bit flat.
Russell Howard was absolutely superb. If he does any stand-up at all I shall seek him out. Al Murray, the pub landlord, was also on top form: "What you studying?" he asked some kid in the audience who'd said that he was at university. "History? ...... What year are you up to?"
And "Hello son. Is that your dad? What's 'is name? ...... NO, it isn't 'Colin'. His name is DAD! Don't they teach you nothing at school these days?"
And Mitch Benn's rendition of "I might just have to murder James Blunt" had me in tears of laughter. All in all, a good night.
However, the trip home could have been better. For a start, walking towards Charing Cross Station, realizing that I would be back there in seven hours time, was a bit off-putting. And then there was a long wait for a delayed (and hence, packed) train, that seemed to be full of people who had been to the George Michael concert at Wembley. This experience was, well, somewhat worrying. It was true Jeremy Kyle territory. No discussions here of "yes, but I think his mid-90s period did indicate some interesting musical progression". It was more like "Sing Last Christmas!!! Sing Careless Whispa!!!!! Fuck off Tracy, you're a slag." "Well, Sharon, at least all my kids have the same dad .... Er, except one."
++++++
I've been working through Sklansky and Miller again, with the added eyes of some experience. Some useful stuff, some not-so-useful stuff, and some stuff which, if applied at my games, would almost certainly cost me money. But, on the whole, very helpful.
A sign informed me that this exit was now closed, "for 78 weeks". Wow, a disturbingly accurate prediction there, I thought. Surely something like "re-opening mid-2008" would be acceptable?
However, of more pressing concern was that I had to drive all the way to exit 24, turn round on that roundabout, and drive back to exit 25 from the other way. It would have been cooler I think to have just smashed a hole in the central reservation and put up a sign saying "Don't want to drive 10 miles out of your way? Prepared to risk life and limb? Turn right here."
Geoff and Julie Challinger were down from Nottingham -- the Harringtons having gradually moved north over the years to the extent that I fully expect them to buy the house next door to Geoff and Julie just as Geoff decamps to Corsica.
Oakes also made an appearance, but then mysteriously disappeared. Odd.
The trip back was via another diversion, this time giving me the chance to sample the delights of Harlow and the A414 on the way to the M11 (god, I'm begining to sound like that character on "Early Doors"). But it still took me only an hour to get home.
++++++
Which all meant that I needed a nap yesterday afternoon to prepare for last night's trip to the Lyric Hammersmith for their annual benefit gig. Some good bits, some bits that well-exceeded any expectations, while others fell a bit flat.
Russell Howard was absolutely superb. If he does any stand-up at all I shall seek him out. Al Murray, the pub landlord, was also on top form: "What you studying?" he asked some kid in the audience who'd said that he was at university. "History? ...... What year are you up to?"
And "Hello son. Is that your dad? What's 'is name? ...... NO, it isn't 'Colin'. His name is DAD! Don't they teach you nothing at school these days?"
And Mitch Benn's rendition of "I might just have to murder James Blunt" had me in tears of laughter. All in all, a good night.
However, the trip home could have been better. For a start, walking towards Charing Cross Station, realizing that I would be back there in seven hours time, was a bit off-putting. And then there was a long wait for a delayed (and hence, packed) train, that seemed to be full of people who had been to the George Michael concert at Wembley. This experience was, well, somewhat worrying. It was true Jeremy Kyle territory. No discussions here of "yes, but I think his mid-90s period did indicate some interesting musical progression". It was more like "Sing Last Christmas!!! Sing Careless Whispa!!!!! Fuck off Tracy, you're a slag." "Well, Sharon, at least all my kids have the same dad .... Er, except one."
++++++
I've been working through Sklansky and Miller again, with the added eyes of some experience. Some useful stuff, some not-so-useful stuff, and some stuff which, if applied at my games, would almost certainly cost me money. But, on the whole, very helpful.
