You what?

As most pubs have no sound running on their television sets they usually have what were once called sub-titles but now have a different name that I can't remember. Quite often they have BBC news on where I go and it is becoming obvious that the text is being done by voice recognition programs as there are hours of fun to be had just watching the mistakes. The best one so far was a report on the Olympic Flame being brought to the UK which informed us that "David Beckham set alight the Olympic Porch".

Bloody Arsonist!

Movable Feast

I saw some Jaffa Oranges today in Tesco.

From South Africa.

They'd just be Oranges then.

Rested and Returned

Well there we go from 3 months blogging to nearly a week off.

I haven't done any "personal" blogging for nearly two months, so what's been happening.

Not a great deal so you haven't missed much.

I nearly got fired for poor sales, which would be fair enough, but they didn't. It might not make any difference anyway as I might have landed a new job. Having worked for an insurance company, a double glazing company and a bank I might be going to the other evil group, estate agents! I won't be on the selling side though. They need my skills in property management at the group headquarters. Assuming all goes well and I get it, it will be the first secure monthly wage packet I have brought in since 1983.

It's audition week for our next production so I'm throwing myself into the fray in order to give my public what they crave. I've decided to audition for three parts which is a bit stupid because I've now got three songs to learn instead of one. Heigh Ho.

Other than that there's nothing to trouble you with so that's it for now.

D.I.D. - Day 30

So here we are, the last day. I haven't left my favourite song till last, just a song that I like and that has a line the I relate to. Halfway through is the line "Cathy I'm lost", I said, though I knew she was sleeping. "I'm hungry and aching and I don't know why". I've always thought that a powerful line and I feel the same and have for some time. Maybe it's just a midlife crisis, who knows. Anyway, enjoy the whole song.

America - Simon & Garfunkel

In addition, I get to take a book. It will be my favourite one, The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett.

And as for a luxury, a piano, because surely if I had enough time I could finally learn to ply it with some measure of skill.

And that rounds off my month of Desert Island Discs. As for April, just so Masher doesn't worry about my sanity, I am returning to normal blogging as and when. Three months solid has been interesting but if I went any longer I'd be thinking about trying to complete a year and that would be madness!

D.I.D. - Day 29

Today I am picking 5 records I am taking with me for one express purpose. If I become very frustrated with my lot on the desert island I shall want to smash things and what better than these five records. They all have one thing in common. They are records that my compatriots feel they have to dance to at a wedding or other social occasion. It is music for Dads to relive their youth to. They are;

We Are The Champions by Queen - I'm sure when they wrote this there was a very good reason and I'm sure it wasn't so that slightly inebriated 50 years olds had something to sway to and sing at the top of their voices.

Brown Sugar by The Rolling Stones - Just what you need. Two dozen dads strutting round the floor like Mick Jagger, pouting their lips and punching the air.

Imagine by John Lennon - For when they have too much to drink and become maudlin.

Simply The Best by Tina Turner. More strutting I'm afraid, but in a vaguely feminine way.

And worst of the lot: Hi Ho Silver Lining by Jeff Beck. Dear God, whatever possessed the Muse of Music to allow this to be written. I have been known to walk out of rooms when this gets played. And I only get as far as that because three minutes doesn't allow me to escape the country.

I can put up with virtually any other piece of music rather than the 5 above. Stockhausen, thrash metal, the entire S Club 7 back catalogue, all can be suffered, but not those. I'd forgotten I am allowed to take a luxury with me, I shall decide what it is tomorrow, but a very large hammer to smash the above might be a good choice.

D.I.D. - Day 28

I have to be careful here not to go into a major Grumpy Old Man rant but one of the things I reckon is wrong with life these days is that kids are treated as adults too early. One embodiment of that is that there is very little children's music about after nursery rhymes lose their appeal. One day it's Baa Baa Black Sheep, assuming that is still allowable, the next it's all shaking your booty and pimping lord knows what.

Back in the day though Saturday Morning's were set aside for Junior Choice, and I suspect before that it must have been Uncle Mac, but that's even before my time. There would usually be a piece of classical music, often The Dambusters, and a pop record by no-one more controversial than The Seekers or Marmalade. The rest would be records that were thought to appeal to a young audience. I'm a Pink Toothbrush by Max Bygraves, anything by Rolf Harris, Burl Ives' Ugly Bug Ball or Big Rock Candy Mountain and a record I cannot find which was The Mastersingers singing The Highway Code. There were a couple of big numbers though. One was Danny Kaye's version of Tubby The Tuba and the other was the one I've plumped for.

Sparky's Magic Piano - Henry Blair.

Tomorrow, a bit of a twist.

D.I.D. - Day 27

Growing up in a house that had more than it's fair share of Big Band music playing it would be hard not to be influenced by Frank Sinatra. The greatest exponent of Swing singing there has been. Swing is very under-rated. Technically very difficult to do as well as Frank did it. You only have to have witnessed Robbie Williams attempt to realise that just because you have Sinatra's band behind you it don't mean a thing. As in It don't mean a thing if it aint got that swing.

What track to pick though. In the end I chose one that I like singing. And I aren't much good at it either. More than a song, you can picture the scene as he goes through the verses. You can seethe bar, the smoke, the slouch on the bar and the bottle of scotch just by the empty glass.

Ol' Blue Eyes might never be back but whilst people appreciate great singers he'll never disappear either.

In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning.