FA Cup Final, Saturday 17th May 2008. Portsmouth Vs Cardiff. The day starts with a journey down to Portsmouth on the South West Trains’ superb service out of Waterloo. Great station, quiet new trains with spacious carriages, £30 return. You can’t argue with that. People who moan about trains in this country usually listen to… Continue reading Play Up Pompey!
Category: Romance
Herosim is easy to deal with
I was reading a list of names yesterday, members of the armed forces who have died whilst serving in Afghanistan. Each one of them leaves behind a lengthy and complex network of friends, family and loved ones who will spend the rest of their lives thinking about them. With each death, the years of history,… Continue reading Herosim is easy to deal with
Arab Strap, 100 Club. London
I listened to Philiphobia for a year or so when it came out about 10 years ago. Aidan Moffat’s morose interpretation of an explicitly drunken existence sat perfectly with everything I thought I aspired to at the time. Any comparison between the music of Arab Strap and my own life was, and still is, utterly… Continue reading Arab Strap, 100 Club. London
If This Is a Man The Truce, Primo Levi
I came to this book with ‘Arbeit macht frei’ ringing in my ears from a recent TV documentary, as it happens within a few pages the ironwork sign that is ‘Work makes freedom’ rears its ugly head with a morbid predictability. The unknown is probably the most terrifying aspect of this book, the idea of… Continue reading If This Is a Man The Truce, Primo Levi
To this day it remains one of my fondest memories
For some reason the train had terminated at Woking and we had to change to get to London, it was a wet Friday evening in early November. We brought some warm lager from the newsagent outside and sat about waiting for a train, happily contemplating what we where going to do with the weekend. The… Continue reading To this day it remains one of my fondest memories
Blazers, medals and maroon berets
At 6:30 pm two men at London’s Victoria station were wearing blazers, medals and maroon berets. The Parachute Regiment, WW2. They had been manning their little stand collecting money since before 9:30 when I passed them on they way to work. Behind them are photos of men at war, smiling, exhausted and bloody. They are… Continue reading Blazers, medals and maroon berets
The Bang–Bang Club, Greg Marinovich and Joao Silva
I spent most weekday evenings during the mid eighties glued to the Nine O’clock News and Panorama. The news seemed to be full of stories about miners and apartheid whilst Panorama, with its terrifying theme tune, tended to focus on nuclear war and apartheid. The last sentence forms the basis of my argument that the… Continue reading The Bang–Bang Club, Greg Marinovich and Joao Silva
A world of my own, Robin Knox-Johnson
This book was borrowed from Mandy’s mum, a proper sewn hardback with solid covers, dated 1969. The texture of the paper and fantastic photos in that washed out early colour effect adds to the feeling of a place in time no longer with us. It smells old too, that musty yellowing smell reminiscent of Victorian… Continue reading A world of my own, Robin Knox-Johnson
Kylie, Showgirl, The greatest hits tour, Earls court
Kylie is the closest thing we have to a Royal family that represents us as a body people in any way, and if we could ever choose our head of state surely the princess of pop would be at the top of the list. She is how I’d like the rest of the world to… Continue reading Kylie, Showgirl, The greatest hits tour, Earls court
A VC for Johnson Beharry
Fantastic to see Private Johnson Beharry, a young black foot soldier from South London, awarded the Victoria Cross For his acts of bravery. The right wing tabloid press fell over themselves to print the biggest headline, strange that not long ago they were using the same hysteria to heap hate on immigrants. Now one of… Continue reading A VC for Johnson Beharry