An election post

Articles like this scare the hell out of me.

(Describe a Republican rout 10 days before polling? what are you? fucking nuts? Do you understand how this makes me feel? I live within a medieval degree of superstition, as well as having lived through the British general election of 1992 and the gut wrenching disappointment that lasted 5 further years as we observed the government implode)

The Tao of running

When I run, My day is automatically better.

Needle in a haystack

There are over 2000 National Express buses in the UK.
Frau Random Doubt travelled on one to Heathrow Airport last Thursday.

She lost her phone.

It slipped down the side of the seat, or something like that.

I got a call from a payphone in the airport when she told me that, oh bugger, she'd lost her phone.

I called her phone company, got a lock put on the phone, called the bus company, asked them about it. They had me ring round the airport garages.

Oh joy.

Everyone was helpful, The woman from Stansted airport told me that they get lots of lost property every day so it might turn up, then again. The woman from Gatwick airport told me not to hold out too much hope. The woman from Heathrow airport told me to call again on Monday but, to be honest, I'm thinking that we'll not be seeing that phone again.

Modern life is rubbish isn't it?

On Monday I'll give up hope and call the phone company again and deal with the fact that I'll have to shell out for a new phone.

Bleugh.

Then today I got a text message. I was in Starbucks with the wee hen attempting to juggle toddler and mocha when one of Frau Random Doubts mummy chums asked me if she had lost a phone on a National Express bus? She had been phoned by a driver who wanted to return the phone.

Really?

Great!

I called a fella called Matt who spoke to a bloke called Steve and I'm meeting the bus tomorrow when it pulls into Hometown. then a geezer called Ian, the driver, wil return FRD's phone.

It's not that amazing but it's a lovely reminder that people are more often good and straightforward and helpful than not.

Gone, and we never did have that final pint.

The boy Dave's gone to work in the UAE.

We've had some marvellous times of late, Some great meals and a few beers.
I'll try not to get too weepy, all my best friends fly away, and they all come back ( in some wierd form or another)
I feel a bit bad that we didn't squeeze in that last pint last week.
Sorry mate.

Anyhow, his new blog is on the right, rock and a hot place.

Book learning # 45

The Damned United by David Peace

Brian Clough was one of the most outrageous managers in an era of outrageous managers. This is a novel based upon an outrageous episode in his career.

He had won the league with Derby and would go on to win the league and two European Cups with Forest.
In 1974 he took charge at Leeds United, a club he had done nothing but criticise for the previous decade.
His managerial role at Leeds United lasted 44 days.

This novel explores the mind of Mr Clough during those booze fuelled, paranoid 44 days.

I loved the story but didn't appreciate the author's style, stream of conciousness, flashbacks to his Derby career, emotional tangles and the contradictions of a soul in turmoil. At times I felt that I didn't really need yet another drunken night in a midlands hotel, but another drunken night in a midlands hotel was what I got.

I battled through it, mostly enjoying it, wondering about the point of it all.

Did Mr Clough set out to destroy Leeds United from the inside?

Why on earth had Leeds hired Mr Clough in the first place?

Was he really that manic? That obnoxious? That drunk?

The answers to the last three?

Probably yes.

Running scared. Civilised.

It was a longer run.

The longest I've done since returning to running following my ten month rest.

It was such a very civilised way to start the day.

A gorgeous autumn day, a hint of mist, a slight chill, severe clear skies.

towards the end of the run I headed up Bradman's lane for that 'this is England, this is heaven' moment, the view over the fields and farms that could have been from 1808 let alone 2008. The view that you want to stop and admire but you've got to keep running.

My moment of Zen?

I returned home and found that my mother had popped round, she had been to the bakers and had left me a gret'ole cream cake!

Oi Vey!?

I'm just about to settle down for the second presidential debate and then this.

A great show about the most important job in the world.

The England Manager.

Zeitgeist

Behind me the telly is telling me that something awful is happening to a bank somewhere.
I just heard the phrase "an extraordinary day" for about the twelfth "extraordinary day" in a row.
I just heard the phrase "financial armageddon".

And I've tried.

I've tried to understand.

I've looked on the bright side.

I think I've worked out that we might not be too badly screwed (medium sized public sector income, small mortgage, minimal extra curricular debt)

I just wish I could have heard more of Sarah Vowell on the Daily Show (GLOBAL EDITION) I loved her bit about the fireside chats. Darn, I think i need a fireside chat right now.
I think I'll make do with another glass of wine.

Another glass of wine and a big run in the morning.

Tomorrow is my bi-weekly 'work from home' day. We call it PPA.
This means a day at home in my jammies, plus a run, throw in a haircut and a not school related meeting with a man about some stuff.
I like to think my PPA days feel like it will feel when I've got my book published and I'm all famous and shit.

This is all truly random, stream of conciousness. Not drunk. Not yet.

I decided that I like Gordon Brown and will almost certainly vote for him in a couple of years out of solidarity. I just can't see any other option.

Blogging verses the other stuff.

I get the feeling that blogging is becoming slightly old fashioned and mildly tweedy and nerdy.
I like it like that.
I like it more than anything else on the internet.
I'm just sorry that life is a bit busy right now and that the blogging is slow.