Sunday, November 17, 2002

Sunday 17 November
just trying a link back to sneakinguponamerica

still not able to load an image here...

Wednesday, November 13, 2002

Wednesday 13 November 02
London in the rain

So Charles believes an internal inquiry will stifle the press interest... I'm having trouble stifling the yawns.

The Royal Family

Oh come on comrades – do we really give
A monkey’s? What a right royal cock-up,
Could we send a butler to the lock-up?
And which tabloid account do we believe?
Her Maj peered through the mists of memory,
And sent out to Regina versus Paul
Burrell, Di’s rock, the guy who took it all
In silence, then took all the Mirror’s fee.
Three hundred grand to spill the crown’s affairs,
Three hours standing in the royal presence
Worth more to him than thirty silver pence
To kiss and tell what went on below stairs.
Her Maj complains to Chas – I hate to grise,
We can’t have servants buggering in hise.

13 November 2002

Tuesday, November 12, 2002

Wednesday 12 November 02
London, in the rain
just to repeat the blogger entry below... the travel update is not much of a travel diary just now - more a repository for topical sonnets... there isn't much of interest up and down the northern line... except that Angel Station has the longest escalator in Western Europe with over 380 steps..

so for the details of the big bike rdie from Miami to Seattle.. scroll down, folks, scroll way on down, down among the depths of this entry..

meanwhile - here is another topical sonnet...

The First Test

See England playing cricket in Brisbane?
(A word of explanation is required
for readers in the States – cricket inspired
Baseball, OK?) The start of the campaign –
Revive the wilting flower of English pride
And overthrow the Aussies’ dominance
Requires a new belief, self confidence,
To catch the wave, or swim against the tide.
The task is all the harder; why? Because
We’re at the Gabba – home to Glen and Shane’s
Best bowling figures. So Nasser Hussain’s
Call to bat last sparks flaming joy in Oz.
Inside four days, our boys are on the rack;
All chances fade of bringing ashes back.

Tuesday 11 November 02

Wednesday, November 06, 2002

Wednesday 6 November 2002
London in the rain..
just to say that the travel update is now more of a place for topical sonnets. for detail of the ride across america, Miami to Seattle, scroll down, down, down to the depths...
and look out for a new link to the ride in New Zealand - starting February.

I'll post up the new url as soon as I have one.

Tuesday, November 05, 2002

Tuesday 5 November 2002

I've scabbled around for days looking for a news item that grabbed the emotional headlines inside..
IDS and the Tory's woes.. ho ho.. the cricket? not yet, wait till later in the week... Posh and the kidnap threat? Midland Mainline taking five hours? but no, not until yesterday was there news that twanged the chords...

the King of Skiffle has died... I remember when Lonnie reigned supreme, and inspired us all to homemade instruments from the garage and shed.. the bass from the tea box, the drums from the pans... I can only remember one other name from that time who came close in sound - Johnny Duncan and his Blue Grass Boys and Little Footprints in the Snow..
but Lonnie - you were an inspiration...

Lonnie Donnegan

I cycled along the Rock Island Line
Last year, though not through the Cumberland Gap;
I noted the Blue Grass State on the map
And knew beyond doubt which way John was gwine.
Way back then, before rock n roll tripped us,
We strung up an old tea-chest and broom-stick;
Ran thimbles on washboards, clickety click;
We rattled and rolled, skiffle had gripped us.
Where would you get an old tea-chest these days?
Or find a washboard for love or money?
It’s all midi sound systems now, Lonnie,
Logical digital soulless replays.
You reached the top six months before Elvis
And skiffled wild joy throughout the fifties.

Tuesday 5 November 2002