loaded

There's no 'luck of the draw' with parking in central London. You have to know where the meters and car parks are, the right zones and have that phone system set up for around Westminster. I have a few favourite places to park if I need to leave the car in the central area, but every so often will come unstuck.

Last Sunday it was Camden that caught me when I'd parked to load a big bag into the car. I'd parked in one area, got out, checked the signs and it said 'Residents Only'. So I moved to another bay further away which said 'loading 20 minutes'. It was around the corner from where I needed to pick up the bag - a two minute walk each way.

A casual look for a non motorised warden - none to be seen. A speedy return trip with the bag.

Ticketed.

In about 6 minutes.

I did protest on the web form to Camden, but they just let it run until I phoned them.

"If you are loading, it has to be clear to the warden that you are doing so, you need to be going back and forth to the vehicle.", they explained. It amounted to pay now at half price or argue more and eventually pay the full fine. So I paid the £60. Ten quid a minute.

Still - it would have been £20 a minute if I'd continued the argument.

breakfast concept

Sunday, slow start, newspapers. breakfast. Sometimes so. Today, hurried because of a rather busy schedule.

It started with visitors who have had to move out of their house after the unfortunate incident with the toaster.

Lets say the loss adjuster has suggested they take at least four months rental at alternate premises whilst the damage is fixed.

And in parallel with that we had the arrival of large quantities of luggage requiring repacking and transportation around part of London. And the reappearance of the still waterlogged Ka.

At least the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea was relatively quiet during the evening whilst I scooted around on errands.

November

Graphite skies and orange mornings. Must be November. I like to think of it as 'my month'.

Brrr.

quantum of solace

Engines revved, tunnels, flashing lights, police sirens, screeching tyres, angry looking people in cars; Yes, I was in London traffic before going to see the Bond movie.

I'll describe it as 'old school Bond with less humour'. Car chase along the Italian Riviera, the Aston Martin that can't out run a jumped up Fiat full of machine gun toting bad guys. We know we are in for a car or two to explode in flames before the title sequence and are not disappointed.

But did it deliver overall? Only partly. I thought it was going through the moves rather adding a new overall sparkle. Bond films should have signature elements but some were really missing. No gimmicks from Q, rather little overt humour from the almost silent Bond. A few playboy moments but rather more chases around quarries and building sites.

The scene where they arrived at a backpacker quality hotel and then Bond decides to move their 'teachers on sabbatical' cover story to the local equivalent of the Ritz was about as funny as it got as well as presenting a self reference to the films generally more gritty side.

Of course there was a reasonable trail of car/boat/plane chases, with the propeller driven transport plane able to out-manouvre a stunt fighter plane and a steel hulled fishing boat able run rings around a couple of purpose built high performance assault dingys. Its all in the jump cuts - and there were plenty.

After climbing over thirty minutes of advertisements for Bond linked merchandise, the movie itself was a couple of hours of predictable escapism - you just knew that the hydrogen fuel cells powering the desert hotel would go properly unstable even before one of the colonels mentioned it.

I'll describe it as watchable, certainly good Christmas season 2009 television but somehow the core of the Bond franchise needs revitalising beyond adding a few 'kerching' product placement moments (although I did like the drink recipe interlude).

I don't mind having a tough guy version of Bond, but previous films could also give us good chuckles and pantomime as well as the thrills. I don't think of it as Bond baggage. More its heritage and a way to delineate it from Bourne and some of the other successors. It seems like the direction is out to emulate others now rather than pay more than fleeting oil-coated homage to the line. This villain didn't even have a limp, let alone a cat or piranha fish in a tank.

However, it can still make for a fun night at the movies, ideally rounded out with a pizza, glass of beer and some amateur film analysis. Its one of those films where everyone has a viewpoint.

insiders

A couple of trapped spirits today. The rather feeble looking wasp I nearly trod on, before rescuing and releasing to the big wide world and a lone robin which had somehow found its way into the gigantic Marks and Spencer where I was buying milk. The robin was valiantly flying the boundaries of its newly gained territory between the mens' shirts and the halloween cuddly toys.

voluptua and the Sachs offenders

Warning: This account contains transcripts of the calls which include language that some readers may find offensive.

Well, it doesn't actually, but its interesting to observe how the recent Radio 2 segment indiscretions are unfolding.

A frequently rude and somewhat unhinged presenter accompanied by the exorbitantly paid face and voice of mainstream BBC prerecord a show together and leave inappropriate lewd phone calls on an actor's answerphone. Pathetic and unkind.

The offending show extract was recorded two days before broadcast and the show's producer appears to have called the actor to ask if it was acceptable to play it. It doesn't seem clear what happened at this point. Perhaps 'No' would have been a good answer.

Then the show goes out and complaints begin to appear, including from the actor. After pickup by the tabloids, the numbers increase daily so that after five days it has reached 30,000.

The Prime Minister raises the subject from his smoldering economy, so then do the Opposition. And now we are at the 'heads will roll' stage which includes the Controller of BBC Radio 2 resigning today.

Meanwhile publicist Max Clifford assists Georgina Baillie at the centre of the messages, who confirms spending 'time together' with the first presenter in 2006. Ms Baillie is part of a burlesque act called Satanic Sluts who work rowdy venues in their 666 inscribed underwear - yes there is video. Today's shiny new Daily Mail leather photos seem to amply illustrate the style of her work.

But yesterday evening, the prime-time TV awards show featured a variety of excerpts from other 'top' UK television shows frequently selected with lavatory humour, bleeped out 'F' words and ritualized joking and poor singing at other peoples' expense.

My hypocrisy detector has started beeping.

arctic blizzards engulf London

October snow is enough to grind the entire Capital infrastructure to a standstill. We can't have snow yet. We need leaves on the lines before we move on to snow based excuses.

Luckily I bought some new tyres for the car the other day so now I've got extra good grippyness and I'm sure my Vibram soled boots are nearby.

The show shovel is still in the garage though so if there's a snowdrift I could be trapped indoors.

I'll twitter Santa if I need rescuing.

fugit without the tempus

One of those weeks where I'm partly inhabiting the City whilst trying to get some fairly large work items completed.

As usual its all a bit of a stretch.

I'm doing those negotiations about which things to attend and others where I need to drop out. Its strange because I'm both looking forward to some future events but also not wanting time to pass too quickly so that I can get everything completed.

exhibit

Private Viewing at the weekend. Photos and paintings intermingled as I dropped by friend Nino's new exhibition. Images and Imagination creating a range of photographs then rendered into a variety of artworks.

I enjoyed the show and liked particularly the cutaways of smaller detail against a larger backdrop. The two accomplished artists THW Ashby and Joy Ashby created the accompanying artwork alongside the photographs with a variety of interpretations sometimes as paintings and other times with the addition of more three-dimensional aspects.

The blend created opportunities for a wide palette to be used, vibrancy in some areas and more sombre and muted in others, with vivacity from seascapes and tranquility from the solitude of cornfields. The visitors clearly enjoying the display in a rather animated opening night.

guidance

I was a sat nav yesterday. Google maps. Phone. Concierge level service. The real deal. Green Ka was out having an adventure in the lake district when the area became a flood hazard with severe weather warnings.

So wet that the roads ahead and behind were flooded and to get to higher ground required negotiating muddy water that came into the car footwell. The fell runners race was called off stranding 1,700 runners.

Plaintive call for assistance such that I had to press the special button that turns rashbre central into a command centre with phone link to the Ka. Flashing lights, screens flickering on the wall, communications equipment. A real Thunderbirds moment. If only we had those boingy palm trees.

A few e-minutes later, plan B was in action. A6 - closed. A684 - suspect. A685 - open. Distance back to M6 (J38) a twisty 12 miles. Nearest motorway adjacent stopover on the way to Glasgow - J42 Carlisle. Room available at 23:23? - yes. 200 metres from motorway exit.

Booked by plastic.

Then SatNav emulation using google maps to track route from Beezon Road, Station Road, Longpool and Appleby Road back to the A685 and the route to Tebay and back on to the M6. It all worked and I gather this morning breakfast is being served in Carlisle before heading for Sterling.

Technorati Tags: rashbre, rain, lake+district, weather, fell+runners, OMM, satnav

caribou barbie

Like many Brits I've watched the Tina Fey spoof of Palin and chuckled, although I'm mindful that US satire can be a trifle clunky compared to the way we do it here in the UK.

When I saw the next Late Show with the real Palin as a guest being rapped to with Inuit and moose waving their arms in the background, it became rather confusing to understand how the satire was supposed to work.

Real life was becoming stranger than the spoof. Presumably Palin had thought this was a countermeasure or a way to connect rather than another example of simple bad judgement. Cringeworthy springs to mind.

Anyway, its continued with a laboured version of Will Farrell as Bush endorsing McCain and the fake Palin in the middle of the screen between the two of them.

I'm wondering how the American voters pick through what is happening now, with America's economy sinking, Bush and potentially McCain positioning more war zones, Palin on a campaing to reduce civil liberties and reasonable quantities of innuendo-based political advertising sprinkled through the US television schedules.

A sense of desperation creeping into these politicians' posturing at this stage?

Tina for President.

Technorati Tags: rashbre, tina+fey, president, palin, mccain, fey, tina,

coordinate

Intersecting arcs today through Peterborough. A voicemail arranged snip of coincident timing brought Rajesh and me together in the sunshine near to a park. Distant assignments and a moment of convergence. I didn't really see Peterborough apart from the park and a windswept Tescos. But I enjoyed the co-ordinate precision of a random place to meet.