APATHY!!!

I was reflecting last night on how my views have changed on so many things last night and it actually made me quite depressed. One of my 'A' levels was 'Political Studies', and without question, it was my favourite subject. However, at 45, I have had every last vestige of interest kicked out of me by the charaltans (thanks Al)in that pompous madhouse called Parliament. From the effete, to the stupid, to the downright dishonest, our representatives seem to be incapable of doing a job worthy of their position. I am not just talking about this because of the downturn in our economy. Most people understand that you cannot have economic growth indefinately and that recession is a cyclical process, regardless of who is in power. I fully understand that policy influences how and when that might happen, but it does not enable us to dodge the bullet of restricted growth forever.
No, my mood is more to do with the people who sit on either side of the house and the manner in which they conduct themselves. Do you believe that your MP represents what you believe, that he fights your corner? I believe that most are looking to kiss the right amount of senior arses so that they can get more money.....not a better job, just more money. I think there was a time where being an MP was vocational, you were proud to be one. Maybe they should look at teachers and nurses and see if they can remember what vocational actually means. If you were to find out what your MP is paid and the 'perks' they get with their job, you would be horrified, and do not get me started on Cabinet Ministers and their commercial directorships.
I am furious with myself for not caring, but I cannot watch this political farce anymore. I GIVE UP...........and I have not even started on the House of Lords!!!

NIRVANA

Those of you that know me well, will know that I have a thing for the blues. Well I think I heard one of the finest songs of my life today. By the absolutely incredible 'Blind Boys of Alabama', the track is called 'You and your folks/Psalm 23'. This lot formed at the 'Alabama Institute for the Negro Blind' in the 30's and the three founding members are indeed all as blind as the proverbial bats. However, what they lose in the vision department, they make up for in the vocal department. I know it is .79 pence, but screw it, just buy the track and you will not regret it. This is as close as it gets for me. It just goes to prove, some things get better with age.

NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN

Well, it appears it is time for me to go on another road trip. This time it is to Devon with some other reprobates. The excuse for this trip is so that we can do a spot of surfing. Above is how I imagine myself when I hit the sea, below is how I suspect I actually look.

We will of course be camping, which in itself will pose a whole raft of problems. We will have to erect a large tent in near darkness after a couple of beers. Our saving grace however, is that Captain Al will be there to marshall us all. Left to myself and Mark Clemence, we would undoubtedly be sleeping outside. Anyway, I shall return with pictures to relay what a complete and utter shambles of a weekend it was and how Al wore his jumper round his shoulders, like a member of a boating club, the whole time (borrowed that from a genius e-mail I got yesterday, which was both hilarious and unprintable).

SNOW IN JULY

Most of you will know that last weekend Hugh and I made our assault on the mighty Ben Nevis. I am going to do a big post with some of the pictures when Hugh has sent them over to me, but I thought you might enjoy this. We thought that this (the back one of the two) was it, as you can see the summit is covered in cloud. Actually, the Ben is behind this mountain and is about another 1000ft up into the worst weather you can imagine in this country. The temperature at the top was -2 and it rained, sleeted, hailstoned and snowed on us. It took over four hours to get up, during which time we saw two people being rescued (always a comforting site when you are on your way up!!). The Glen of Nevis is jaw droppingly beautiful and I did get the urge to shout "FREEDOM" a lot, even though I am patently English. The view from the top is less than spectacular, you can see about the same distance as you are from your computer screen right now. You also have to contend with the light brigade style charge of about seventy gazillion (it's a lot) mozzers every time you step outside. I reckon I lost 95 thousand pints of blood.

It was a great place, although it is not hard to see how people die up there. There are several vertical ice walls with massive drops a few feet from the summit route, and the cloud makes it difficult if you lose your way. Needless to say, we did not smoke our Cuban stogies at the top, they would have disintegrated in minutes. Just so you know how tired we were when we got back, we had just three pints (the shame). In a masochistic way, it was a really great weekend, so much so that we are going to have a crack at Scafell and Snowdon, although I may need to think about the latter, as it means going to Wales.