Yearly Archives: 2002

Hot or Cold

“In a stunning new series from BBC Science, Donal MacIntyre is blasted, roasted, frozen and soaked on an epic journey to experience and understand the wildest weather the planet can throw at him”. [link]

I’ll say (or was I just too drugged up – medicinally – to care?)

Last night, in my ill state (thanks, but no I still feel really bad and if had any sense would be at home right now rather than sitting in the office), I just about managed to watch Wild Weather on BBC One. I was absolutely fascinated by it. Donal MacIntyre always annoyed me on TV (I’m sure he’s really rather nice in real life) until yesterday. Wild Weather, however, is was one of the most interesting, brilliantly shot programmes I have seen for a long time. Thank goodness I still pay a licence fee. Hoorah for the BBC.

If I was feeling better I would talk at length, but I suggest you watch it next week or read this.

On this day…

2005: A New Champion
2004: Lord Hill’s Mighty Tower
2002: Plastic, Moi?

Our Country Friends

How many of us who live amidst an urban sprawl would rather be living in the countryside? I suspect it’s a conversation that keeps the wine bars of large parts of London alive. The quest for a quieter, simpler life is something many people search for. Indeed, it is something I have thought of many times. Move all my worldly goods to the South West and see what happens. Well, in truth, at this moment in my life I don’t actually want to do it. Sometimes, however, I wish I could lose the congestion and stresses of inner-city (or, in my case, suburban) living.

And why am I asking myself these questions? Well, last Sunday was the day The Countryside Alliance marched through London. I avoided the centre of town for most of the day but I did enjoy a lunch at Wandsworth Common. Seated at most of the tables surrounding us where groups of people who, quite evidently, had been on some part of the march. What intrigued me was why so many of them had taken a train out of central London to Wandsworth Common.

Of course PY, who seems to have a greater understanding of many of these things than I, claimed that many of those people sat there on Sunday afternoon were in fact local residents but they had been marching for the countryside cause – “Liberty and Livelihood”. Upon reflection, I think he was right. Many of them may have other houses in the country, perhaps even own large amounts of land. But what struck me most was a simple economics. If all the money they spent in the restaurants of Wandsworth Common each Sunday was spent in the countryside then rural communities would be booming. Not only that, but if they all went and lived outside the city and enjoyed the life they were marching to protect on a daily basis (rather than at weekends), then they would free up a great deal of housing stock in urban areas. Thus, the countryside benefits (it’s full of people spending money and supporting the “lifestyle”) and those of us wishing to remain (for the time being) city dwellers would also benefit from less ridiculous housing costs. Doesn’t everybody win? (Well, I know there is the matter of jobs, schools and other infrastructure etc. but you have to admit it’s starting point, if not wholly thought through. And more importantly it’s plainly hypocritical to march for something you don’t actively – economically – support).

For a more interesting read on tweed in the town, see here.

On this day…

2004: A Shirtless State Of Mind

Individual Portions

Rachel makes individual pots of her organic yogurts. This is news to me and I am, at this very moment, delighting in the bio-live wholemilk raspberry variety. This has, right now, made me feel a lot better. The power of food, huh? [Link]

On this day…

2004: Crazy Name, Worthy Cause
2002: I Have An Unbearable Feeling Of Sadness
2002: Nike 10K

I Have An Unbearable Feeling Of Sadness

You may recall I said, on September 11, that my thoughts were with Bart who was going through the process of coming out as a gay man to his parents. He has been discussing this process in his blog for months and, finally, posted them a letter telling them he way gay. Their initial reaction seemed positive and supportive but now it seems to have turned negative and he is receiving email from his father quoting a range of anti-gay websites.

Now, I have an unbearable feeling of sadness. Here is a young man trying to do the right thing and here are a set of parents whose world seems to have fallen apart. While a blog is only small insight into somebody’s personality and the life that they lead, I do get the impression his parents are good people. So why do his recent entries make me feel so sad? I am certain they love their son and want the best for him. I am positive that they are trying to do (what they see as) the right thing. I am also fairly sure that they will accept their son and in years to come regret the way they handled the news (doing it all by email is, perhaps, not an ideal way to do this). Still, a certain part of me wants to believe people are good, supportive and that discrimination is something we will, eventually, only see in historical movies. I fear I am either naïve, or (as I would rather be) eternally hopeful.

There are coming-out experiences posted across the web. All are useful to a certain extent and all are useless by the fact that none of them deal with our own families and the dynamics of our relatives and their own belief systems. Many of them, good or bad, serve to show the world what a painful process this is for many gay men. Will it ever change? Tom posted an entry (see September 16th) which summarises some of this and, one day, I may post about the awful way I procrastinated the subject for too many years.

On this day…

2004: Crazy Name, Worthy Cause
2002: Individual Portions
2002: Nike 10K

Nike 10K

I want to pass comment on the fact that PY, my significant other/partner/general love of my life, ran the Nike 10K Run London event yesterday in a time which beat his run last year. I was nearly in tears when he crossed the line – isn’t that sad?

The event itself did not seem as well organised as last year. We waited at Wimbledon where there were not enough shuttle buses. The transportation problems lead to a delay at the start and, I imagine, a good number of competitors who didn’t make their allotted start time. The atmosphere was not as good as last year either. In Kew Gardens and with half the number of competitors, last year’s race seemed more intimate and fun. This year, Richmond Park, was spread out and didn’t seem to have the same number of things for those non-runners amongst the throng, to do.

On this day…

2004: Crazy Name, Worthy Cause
2002: Individual Portions
2002: I Have An Unbearable Feeling Of Sadness

The Woman Who Cooked Her Husband

After much walking around London yesterday, I eventually got PY, American Colleague and Myself tickets to The Woman Who Cooked Her Husband. It’s on at The New Ambassadors Theatre, which can be an intimate and interesting venue. It stars Alison Steadman and Daisy Donovan.

It’s a three-headed almost-farce like comedy (I was waiting for a Vicar and no trousers) and it’s only mediocre. Firstly, the title gives the game away. Secondly, the story is too weak to be carried for ninety minutes and thirdly, sadly, some of the acting isn’t great. There’s an old adage that everyone’s a critic and at £32 a ticket I think I bloody well deserve to be. Daisy Donovan, who I find hilarious on television, seemed out of place – although maybe that was just me as reviewers seem to think she handled herself well. However, when the main comedic thrust of her role was the comedy dancing – which might work on TV but looks very strange on the stage – I didn’t think she stood a chance. I imagine that Alison Steadman did her best but I think, the material was just not up to it. It didn’t give Daisy Donovan anything to make her West-End debut with and it didn’t give Alison Steadman anything to get her teeth into. This review says all this in a much more articulate way.

Still, despite its shortcomings, it was an OK evening. Middle aged couples and pairs of gay men. There is something faintly disturbing about that mix. And, perhaps, one should always remember that food is as important as sex.

On this day…

2004: Trees On Piccadilly
2003: Thoroughly Modern Manners

Tired

Bet you’re thinking, not another entry about food. My office (more-or-less) took American colleague out for dinner again last night and, again, on Old Compton Street. Pizza. Huge pizzas (not had such a big pizza in London for some time) that were bigger than any plates that the restaurant had available. Many office-type things to speak of but I will reserve judgement on the evening for another time (how mysterious).

So now I am dog-tired. I have been entertaining or being entertained, all week. I have to arrange theatre trips for tonight and other things for the rest of the weekend. It’s very strange, as I haven’t felt this physically exhausted in months. I feel really drained but I couldn’t sleep any longer than I did. My brain was awake and I was getting to that point when lying in bed hurts more than the thought of getting up pains me. Maybe it an age thing.

On this day…

2004: Jesus Christ Superstar
2003: Bush House, London

South Bank. Friends from North.

I could have spent much of this week writing about going out eating and/or entertaining but decided that would be too dull. On the other hand, on Wednesday night we (American and I) went on the London Eye (always a fantastic treat) and then wandered down the South Bank. It is, probably, one of my favourite areas of London.

  • Old County Hall. It’s a pleasuredome of treats but the best bit, is the aquarium. We didn’t go in this time, but I love the place and am writing this as kind of note to self: go back to the London Aquarium.
  • The London Eye. My thirtieth birthday was spent on The Eye in a hired capsule with a whole bunch of friends – all of whom had almost no notice but arrived for drinks, ride and pizza. This time we were on The Eye as the light started to fade – which actually made it all the more magical. We even bought the tacky tourist snap that they take on the way down.
  • New Hungerford Bridges(s). I have spent years walking over the old, narrow bridge avoiding the winter floods and the summer camera-wielding tourists. The new bridges look stunning. They are boulevard wide and, actually, very pleasant to walk across and each bridge has very different, but fabulous, views.
  • Royal Festival Hall and National Film Theatre. They may be concrete and they are certainly not photogenic but they are some of my favourite locations. Long may the concrete jungle live.
  • Oxo Tower. A great building with a great restaurant (even if I can never afford to eat there) and, if you don’t want to go on the wheel, the viewing gallery at the top (free and near the restaurant) provides a stunning view of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
  • Tate Modern and Millennium Bridge. After all the fuss at the turn of the century these are two worthy additions to the London landscape. The interior of the Tate Modern is fantastic (the sheer size of the entrance is great). And the Millennium Bridge is in just the right place and looks gorgeous when lit (although the last few times I haven’t seen the lights on).

On the way back from these sights (we didn’t do new City Hall or Tower Bridge, Hayes Galleria or Butler’s Wharf) we stopped for a psudo-traditional pub meal of chips and beer. Even though, I suspect, the pub was full of tourists it felt as though it was the kind of place I went to regularly, so I guess, had an air of authenticity.

After all this on Wednesday, I was looking forward to last night. Last night was meant to be an evening not operating as tour guide (not that I mind but the break would be good). I was having dinner with some friends (and some old friends who were coming down from Scotland). My friends in Worcester Park were preparing dinner and it was to be (in fact, it was indeed) an evening of memories and fun. However, things did try and put a blocker on the evening.

  • I was late. I was attending some presentations with a client they over-ran.
  • My friend Jo, who was cooking, had been taken ill and been in and out of hospital for two nights (nothing too serious, thankfully). So, she didn’t feel like cooking – her husband decided to and the food was excellent.
  • We were all so tired (me from working, them from the illness/hospital adventures) that we called a halt to proceedings at 10.30pm.

It’s a shame when things don’t quite go according to plan and you have been looking forward to them. I had been hoping to have a long catch-up with the folks from Scotland and we ended up with the briefest of chats. Ah well, maybe next time Â…

On this day…

2004: Flick For Canada