Counting the Cost

Pause for thought

I’m not sure I have point here so bear with me.

Down the road from work is a (pictured) war memorial. As these things go it’s not a bad one. They are never going to show soldiers fighting on the Somme in their true state i.e. hiding in shell holes desperately trying to dodge machine gun fire. But at least this one shows a man in battle dress keeping an eye on us all looking like a normal if slightly heroic Tommy. Whatever you think of war having memorials to the people who died in them in and around where we live and work must be a good thing, even if sadly like me most people walk past them without taking much notice.

One of the most chilling things that probably goes unremarked by most people passing this statute is the inscription half way down that says.

“To the glorious memory of the 22000 Royal Fusiliers who fell in the Great War
1914 – 1919.”

That’s 22,000 dead or a well attended football match or maybe Oxford Street when it’s very busy.

The list of Royal fusiliers regiments (they were a London based Battalion) all have regiment names like the bankers, lawyers, public schools, sportsmen, East ham and of course “Young soldier” which serve further humanise the loss.

Underneath in a slightly legal phrase is:

"And those fusiliers killed in subsequent campaigns"

Being opposite the Inns of Court I suppose “subsequent” is appropriate cold legal term the sort you find in a lease “the landlord reserves the right... any subsequent damage...”
It almost seems like they couldn’t face counting once they’d reached 22,000.

Like I say I’m not sure if I have point really just that when it comes to people dying it’s too easy to get lost in statistics (putting aside Stalin's pithy remarks on the subject) each death on any side is tragedy worth remembering.

I don't want to go to Epsom

Donna Summer & Lieutenant Love

Even a medium sized football crowd would have a job filling Crystal Palace Station, so me and the "rock a billly" girl barely trouble its huge brick canyons. She scurries off to the Perspex shelter at the far end of the platform and I loiter around under my borrowed umbrella, the heavy drizzle turning the platforms shiny in the late night street light.

The second to last train pulls in and we grateful get on board dripping in the emptyish carriages; the train dawdles for a minute making expectant chugging pinging noises. Just as the doors start to close “lieutenant love” stumbles into my carriage and messily slumps across the train and bangs into the opposite door. As the train begins to move off he unsteadily makes his way to the seat opposite me and as he lowers himself down he salutes me.
I’m not as drunk as he is but I see no reason not to salute him back which raises a smile. He’s in his late twenties casually dressed wetter than me fuzzy eyed and a bit confused.

With some slurring he asks
“Is this the Epsom train?”
“No mate London Bridge” I reply removing one of my earphone buds.
“S’ok that’s the one I wantss”
He offers his hand to shake, again I see no reason not to shake it.
This makes him smile and he nods for a moment.
“S’want ya listening to?” he asks pointing at my phones.
“I feel love by Donna Summer” I tell him.
This raises another of smile and he half sings a techno doo doo doh high energy riff in his slow drunken way pointing with his fingers in the air.
“thatss the bollocks that is “
I nod in agreement.
He then tries to sing the main refrain
“I feel love”
but gets closer to Jimmy Summerville than Ms Summer.
More smiles and a small laugh.
“You alright you are” he says betraying his lack of judgement.
We rumble on through the night.

“Are you sure this isn’t the Epsom train?” he slurs.
I say “I’m sure” and point to the indicator at the end of carriage which is scrolling through the stops.
Half turning he at least pretends to read the illuminated screen and seemingly reassured turns back to me.
“Thank fuck for that!” he’s says “don’t wanna end in Epsom”
“It’s not that bad “I say with smile.
“ No s’true but my ex and ‘er mother lives in Epsom and I'm in their bad books”
“She found me in bed with ‘er sister”
I’m about to say “that’ll do it” when he adds
“And ‘er cousin!”
We both laugh.
He half sings “I feel love” again
“That’ll be in me head all night now” he says tapping his head partly as if to make sure it was still there.
The train is slowing he salutes me again and starts to stand up unsteadily while offering me his hand to shake again.
“Is this Forest Hill?”
I nod as we shake
“Think I’ll give it ago here then” he continues standing almost fully up and turns holding the hand rails, he slowly edges off the train singing his “doo doo” refrain and offering me one more salute as he carefully gets off the train and the doors close behind him.

The 5:35 to Reading

Out and about

The self-improvers

Got a bit of a flier yesterday evening and got a relaxed less heaving train home. In our little corner of the carriage by chance was group of people thirsty for knolwedge.

While most of the train was reading their daily updates of Boomtown Brats or wolverhampton Travel Lodge's drunken exploits we happy few had cast our net "wider". I was reading about how to take better pictures of small things. Across from me a glamorous young asian woman dramatic red streaks in dark hair, tight sequined plunging vest top (yeah I know but it was meant to be eye catching wasn't it), vertigious wedge heals (you know the look) was reading a Linux computer manual. Next to me a older man with bright white hair glasses and dark a suit had literal rollled up his sleeves and was engrossed in a magazine that seemed to about renovating edwardian sailing dingies.

Lastly diagonally opposite Hurrah was or old friend from February the woman with the backed books. There she was her clothes more summery and her book thicker but what caught my eye as last time was the cycling catalogue backing paper. I'm too English and she was to engrossed for me to pluck up courage to ask her why and anyway us readers like our peace.

I sometimes imagine at times like this all the sentences from these eclectic texts rising up and mixing in the stuffy air of the carriage...... "the protocols for levered memory construction are easier than you might imagine and anyone use to coding... unlike for planking there is no need to soak the timbers for the footings as long as you are using seasoned timber...Catherine walked down the path like she'd done although those times with Tim & Shandy. Her bags brushing the hedge for startled her and for a moment she thought Shandy was about to bound past tail wagging eager to be let in...a tripod is essential for close up work remember to take into account of the weight of your camera when buying one... Saving money here will be a false economy, a good model will last.....

I sometimes wish my journey was longer when I'm deep in good bit.

Chewing the fat

Pop Will Eat Itself
Originally uploaded by bltphoto

Meanwhile in the square

They clump across the square in matching “hotel” uniform, skirts and jackets, dirty blonde hair and heels, each one talking on their phones and each swinging a brown paper lunch bag from chain food outlet.
Calls over they tuck in.
(I can’t see whose talking but they proceed to talk relatively loudly)
1st woman: “Well, smoothies are perfect for me, coz you know how I don’t like chewing”
2nd woman: “Ermm yeah.”
2nd woman: “And ‘suppose it’s too hot for soup?”
1st woman: “yeah it’s strange I don’t really go for soup, its hard being a veggy, there’s not many flavours.”
Her friend then proceeds to reels off a list of increasingly exotic flavours all of which are rejecting for one reason or another; they both do this in an oddly serious manner.
2nd woman: (at last) “Well, that only leaves tomato and oxtail!”
1st woman: “Don’t really like tomato on its own”.
They pause for a moment
2nd woman: “So is that why you have porridge everyday, y’know the chewing thing”
1st woman: “No not really it’s because I come on the tube.”
At this the 2nd woman’s phone rings and I leave them to their ruminations.

New 2 Me Music Monday

Blue sky what were they thinking?
Originally uploaded by bltphoto

Jonsi & Alex 'Riceboy Sleeps'
Got an email from sigor ros the other day it was about meeting up for the quiz……well actually it was mailing list thing ,Jonsi their lead singer and his boyfriend Alex have put out an album (are they now the Icelandic wings ?) and you can have a track for free (in return for your e-mail). At the danger of turning into a melody maker writer it is full on “cathedral of sound” seeming starting off like “Allegri Miserere ” with distant synths and processed choral voices (update on having read the email in full it’s uses a recording of the last know castrato!) all with pleasing crackles and pops. Hopefully Jonsi may sing on other tracks.
http://www.jonsiandalex.com/

English Cold: July Skies
On similar ambient tip (if ambient musicians are ever on “a tip”) I got July Skies 2004 lp over the weekend. They are part of the confusing midlands collective that also makes up Epic 45 and Avro Car. As well as by band members they are all linked by the use of washes of guitar and electronics mixed in with a folk and a bucolic rural nostalgic feel. Some tracks here contain found recordings from 1940’s. The whole thing has a theme of war time air fields (much like Sonia’s 2nd lp!).

Both this and on their more recent disc (the weather clock 2008) have a sort of still hot summer’s day feel, the atmosphere of perhaps being in the school library out of term time or perhaps (bear with me on this) the aural evocative equivalent of the smell of an old caravan surrounded by nettles (ok I’ll stop now). I think their Staffordshire/West Midland’s grounding does come through this isn’t wind in your hair, ozone up your nose coastal music.

Of it’s kind and if you’re in the mood I think the best of it avoids the vacant noodling of most ambient music and has strong sense of trying to capture particular sense of time and place.
If it appeals I would try to buy it via their record company as Amazon took ages also check out Epic 45 and Avrocar.
http://www.julyskies.com/

Sunday Stuff:

Well yesterday was good, I did have to have a moment of clarity having been an arse and had to schlep back from town to pick up my Buzz tickets and running round on the tube etc in the heat it's a good job I wasn't in charge of anything important like the space programme!

Striding out to bat:

I was on the St Gile's Circus yesterday and was brought up short at the sight of a wild eyed long haired crazed looking bloke running the other way wielding a cricket bat. I was little perturbed thinking he was one that locales "imbibers" intent on carnage . He then thankfully dropped a Cricket ball and it turned out that in his ill matched "whites" he was off to play erm well cricket.

There goes the Neighbourhood:

Run for your lives the Guardian has found Deptford!! the only bit of note is the "Well connected" section I know what they are getting at but it's the note of suprise that grates particularly as most Guardianistas live in places like Stokey which hardly accessible at all. Last time's record 1hr.30 on the bus to get to the quiz!

Bursting with Pride:

The centre of town was filled with Pride yesterday which is nothing if not a good thing. If I hadn't been doing my bee in jar impression I could seen a bit more of waht was going on. Loving the sign in Trafalgar square that seemed to say "Bisexual Mayor of London" though.

We came in peace....

July 4th. Royal Festival Hall.
Buzz Aldrin: well that was great, I was worried it might be a bit odd, never meet your heroes and that but the whole thing was friendly and warm .

Buzz was eloquent and interesting and didn't seem to be going through the motions.

His book seems to be full of stuff like this that points as to why he ended up going to the moon and well I haven't

"amazingly, I found it relatively easy in our artificial environment
(to sleep). It hardly occurred to me that just an inch away, outside the
thin wall of metallic alloy, was a deadly, vast,airless vacuum."

Thanks to SA for the photo, the moon below is the marvellous lampshade Buzz "designed" for Habititat,