Presents for Guys

Somehow, somewhere somebody has decided that it would be a good idea to put the Christmas decorations up already in some shops. You know, because September is such a traditionally festive month. No doubt this is aimed to provoke an orgy of consumerism from now until about mid-January. Joy. As always, I will be leaving my Christmas shopping until mid-December. If I was organised, I would of course do it mid-January and take advantage of the sales but a) that always feels a bit naughty even though nobody I am likely to buy gifts for would really mind (especially as they would usually get the same amount spent, just better gifts) and b) who knows where one is going to be in a year.

Anyway, this isn't really the point of the post. It was provoked by stumbling on an article (I don't know where so sorry for lack of link) about good presents to buy girls; not just for Christmas but generally. This is the antidote to that; good presents to buy guys.

Now before you girls start grumbling, "Guys are so hard to get presents for", we're not. This is a rough guide but hopefully it will provide inspiration. Of course, with all of this there's the pervasive caveat know your audience but that said, let's crack on.

Firstly, ignore guys that say they don't need anything. Presents are not about things that one necessarily needs but that doesn't mean they can't be useful or functional.

Most chaps I know love gadgets. There's a hierarchy here: if you can hurt yourself on it, it's close to the top. Swiss army knives are good here. I've had mine since I was about 15 and it has honestly been one of the most useful things ever. After that are things with an electric circuit; if they light up or go "beep" that's a plus. After that come individual passions of the chap in particular.

The above is a bit flippant but it's not a bad start if you really are stuck. However, don't be afraid of seemingly "generic" presents. A lot of guys I know genuinely appreciate things that would normally be considered dull. I'm talking things like ties and cuff-links here. My male friends agree almost unanimously that they are proud of their collections of each. Both are largely sartorial flourishes these days but a good way to display how well you know the person. Be very wary of novelty items as they will normally be worn in a work or a formal environment. That's not to say they have to be totally dull. I have a pair that say "bow" and "stroke", the rowing equivalent of port and starboard which makes sense since I used to row. I also have a pair which are watch mechanisms mounted on a cuff-link which ties into my love of watches. Both show originality and personality without being garish so hit the spot nicely.

Pens are another possibility. Almost everybody has to write on a daily basis so why not make it a bit more pleasant with a decent pen. I'm not necessarily talking about blowing serious cash on a Mont Blanc; others can be obtained far more cheaply but are desirable none the less. A stainless steel Parker Jotter will give you enough change from a tenner to go for a drink afterwards but it also featured heavily in Goldeneye and therefore will be valued by anyone who remotely considers themselves a Bond fan. Or what about a fisher space pen - designed by NASA to work in zero gravity and write on all sorts of odd surfaces such as on grease or under water. This was achieved using some clever gel-ink which was kept in a cannister under pressure (it's interesting to note that the Russians had a device with similar capabilities... a pencil!) and again won't break the bank. See what I mean? Cool enough to be a gadget without being hideously expensive.

Drinking vessels are also good ones. Err on personalised and classic if going for tankards rather than a Simpsons et al one. Hip flasks are another good shout; there's almost limitless variety and a good one will last a long time. Most have metal surfaces that can be inscribed if you want an added touch. A favourite gift of mine was a cut-glass whisky tumbler I received for my 18th. It has stayed with me since and I love it. However drinking vessels don't necessarily have to be alcohol related. On my 21st I received a James Bond mug featuring a dust jacket picture and quote from Goldfinger. It was an add-on to my main present but I loved it (sadly it broke recently) and made morning coffee much more pleasant and morning generally just a wee bit more bearable.

On the subject of drinking vessels, drink is never a bad shout but again, know your audience. I love whisky and always genuinely appreciate bottles I've given. It has introduced me to whiskys I have never heard of (which is impressive) and opened my eyes to others I have yet to try. However, be careful; make sure it's their tipple of choice unless you have sufficient expertise in whatever you're buying to be nigh on certain they will like it.

See what I mean folks, the obvious stuff can be appreciated if done carefully.

So what have my favourite gifts been, apart from the ones already mentioned? Well my watch, kilt and some of my pens are certainly up there but not just the very expensive stuff.

An ex gave me a bottle of Floris 89 aftershave. This is the stuff favoured by Ian Flemming and James Bond therefore, as a huge Bond fan, I loved it. Not only does it smell nice but it must have required some fairly detailed research to find out.

On a similar note, my girlfriend gave me a James Bond monopoly set a couple of Christmases ago after I casually mentioned that I had seen one years ago and had been keeping an eye out for one ever since. She got serious brownie points for actually being able to find one (they are fairly rare) and even more for remembering one throwaway sentence in a conversation on one of our early dates.

She also got me a coffee maker with a timer which hit the spot perfectly. As a hopeless caffeine addict and coffee lover, it's not a good idea to get too close to me in the morning before I've had a hit. This is brilliant, set it up the night before, set the timer for 10 minutes before your alarm then wake up the next morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee with the only effort being stumbling into the kitchen and pouring it into a (James Bond - yeah of course I replaced the broken one) mug! It's doubly good if you remember and set it up before you go on a big night out so the coffee is ready and waiting for you the morning after... who says aromatherapy is rubbish?!

Slightly left-field was an electric razor. I look ridiculous with any form of facial hair so being clean shaven is a necessity. Wet shaving, though it yields fantastic results, is at best fiddly and at worst dangerous if done in a hurry, the electric takes the faff out on a daily basis again making mornings a bit less of a pain.

There are many others which I have loved but this at least gives an idea of appreciable things.

Now to berry my head in the sand and try to ignore the selection boxes in the supermarket.

JR

Skyfall, an actual review...

Right, after my gushing post the other night here is a more sensible review. I stand by my gushing but let me go into a bit more detail as to why.

Firstly, there's the casting. All the actors are absolutely wonderful (sorry for sounding like a luvvie but it's true). Daniel Craig is spectacular as Bond; his portrayal really does ooze the "back to Flemming" approach he talked about. It's difficult to put into words but without doubt he nailed it with just the right combination of physicality, self-loathing and humour which makes up the character. The only trouble is the poor man seems to have developed an allergy to shirts: at any rate he took them off at every possible opportunity!

Dame Judi Dench was absolutely mesmerising as M. Unlike most of the previous films, her character was integral to the plot (and there was a plot this time thank god). She and Craig sparked off each other wonderfully creating a kind of chemistry which has never been present between M and Bond in the films before (it has been alluded to in the books with M asking Bond to complete a number of assignments that are not strictly official). She was also a vehicle for a detail which I rather liked and I hope was intentional. Without going into detail, the plot explores the an increasingly bureaucratic parliamentary management on MI6 who see the way things are done now as outmoded and useless. The message is largely, beware change for the sake of change and ignore the old ways at your peril. So that's the general idea backed up (I think) by M covering herself in a travelling rug on the journey up to Scotland. No big deal in itself but the tartan of the travelling rug was that of the Black Watch, a Scottish army regiment which was dismantled in a round of government "streamlining"(/cuts) despite it's history and it's proven record of efficiency and effectiveness. Maybe I'm over-thinking things but, to me, it was one of a number of real-world events explored in a fair bit of detail showing the franchise is not all about mindless escapism.

The villain, played by Javier Bardem, was superb. A portrait of unhinged evil. Unusually his motive wasn't world domination but in some ways that made him even better.

"New Q" also deserves a mention. I was dubious if anybody could fill the lab-coat of the late Desmond Llewelyn. John Cleese, much as I like the rest of his work, did nothing to dispel this. Ben Wishaw doesn't do so either but he certainly stands along-side. Previous gadgets issued by Q branch were name-checked (the exploding pen being one, the signature recognition PPK being two for the price of one) and new ones added but never in direct competition. In a way, it's a good example of the mood of the film in general; it acknowledges the past associated with the Bond films while taking ownership of the present and moving it forward. A risky strategy but one that was spot on here.

Before I look at other aspects of the film I can't progress without mentioning the undisputed star of the show. A silver Aston Martin DB5 registration BMT 216 A. When it appeared on screen, a cheer when up from the audience and quite right too. And it wasn't just there as window dressing. It featured heavily in the plot towards the end. Yes, we know that in real life there is as much chance of a spy driving an Aston Martin as there is of me winning Miss World but what's Bond without the suspension of disbelief and a good dollop of fantasy.

Since I have mentioned a brand already, now seems like a good time to mention product placement. Bond has always had a history with product placement. In the books Flemming mentioned items as a reference to luxury and only got rewarded afterwards. In the early films as well, certain things were used because they were commonly accepted as the best but the brands were still name checked. Latterly, as advertising kicked off, brands paid more and more to have their products featured in the films. All of this lead to a huge hubbub late last year when it was announced Heineken were going to contribute to the funding of the film. There was outcry about the idea of Bond drinking beer (despite the fact that he does so frequently in the books and films thus far) and worry that the label was going to take over the film. In the event, yes beers were drunk but they were never ostentatiously consumed and always in situations where the consumption was appropriate. This was the same of all the other brands featured (and who had undoubtedly paid to have done so) as I was in no doubt would be the case given both producers have been involved in the franchise for most of their lives. They know it's not going to be a one hit wonder and therefore have to keep an eye on the future and ensure Bond isn't just one long advert. The one exception to this, disapointingly in my view, was the watches. Everyone knows Omega has been linked to Bond since 1996 and everyone knows Bond wears high-end wristwear. The watch was going to become famous and feature heavily in the film however I thought, at times, it was a bit "in your face", almost as if the watch was wearing Daniel Craig rather than the other way round. It wasn't quite worn on top of the shirt cuff but at times it wasn't far off. I thought that was a bit of a shame really since Omega have established a link with the franchise that is up there with the most secure.

One final thing I will comment on before I bring this ramble to a close was the return of humour. The last couple of Bonds have been rather lacking in this department (probably as a response to the increasingly cartoonish nature of the Brosnan years). In Skyfall it is back and not before time too. Rather than go down the one-liner route, it usually takes the form of pithy verbal interaction between the characters. It stops short of all-out banter but at the same time is sharp and witty. There are some points which are laugh-out-loud funny but at no point do you get the feeling that the actors are playing for laughs. Like I say, spot on!

There are one or two other features of the film I can't discuss because it would give away some fairly major plot twists and i don't want to spoil it for anyone who has yet to go and see it. Suffice to say, Skyfall is set to become one of the all-time great Bonds. May there be many more like it.

Go and see it if you have not already done so. I can't urge you strongly enough.

JR

Skyfall at Last

So that was it. The culmination of three years of waiting. I have finally seen Skyfall. My mind is still reeling. I will write a fuller post on it when I've had time to absorb and process what I've seen (and maybe see it again) but in short, it is truly wonderful; easily the best Bond in the last 20 years. It could even be on a par with Goldfinger in my estimations. Potentially it could be regarded as genre-defining although only time will tell on that one.

I'm not going to discuss any of the details at the moment so I don't spoil it for those anticipating seeing it in the near future but let me say, go and see it as soon as possible. It delivers everything one would expect of a Bond film and so, so, so much more.

Earlier I described it as the Bond equivalent of eating at a Heston Blumenthal restaurant (where Goldfinger is more akin to eating at Gordon Ramsay). In short, Goldfinger is classic in it's style but at the absolute pinnacle with it. Skyfall is easily recognisable as a Bond film (as Heston's creations are recognisable as food) however the presentation and delivery on both counts is mind-blowing and takes you to places you didn't think possible.

I know I'm gushing like a schoolgirl here but I make no apologies for it. This is truly a masterpiece of the franchise combining innovation (not a concept I'm usually a fan of as you will know from previous posts) with lots of references to the past; some subtle, others more tongue in cheek. Not only that but there are references to events in the real world of intelligence (although I can't go into them without revealing a major plot twist). It's definitely one for the diehards like myself but still accessible to the uninitiated (as confirmed by the Missus - although I'm gradually filling the gaps in her education to date). Sir Roger Moore described Skyfall as one of the best Bond films ever when I saw him on Tuesday. I took this description with a large pinch of salt thinking there was an element of hyperbole in his claim. I retract those thoughts unreservedly.

There are many bits of trivia and observations I will note down in a few days time (once I can safely make observations without spoiling the surprises for too many people) but for now let me leave you with a fact and an observation.

The observation is that the best Bond girls all seem to be French for some reason. Carole Bouquet, Eva Green and the most recent offering (who's name escapes me) along with several others have all been French. My theory is - if you will forgive the generalisation - that this is because no other girls on the planet can smoulder like French girls. There are many that are equally as pretty if not more so but they lack the same sensual, sultry qualities. Whatever the reason this trend is carried on in Skyfall.

The trivia (which I love) is that the stunt driver for the film is Ben Collins. Some say he was unfairly dismissed by the BBC for writing about himself and that he has an unhealthy fetish for the colour white. What we know is that he was the Stig (the anonymous racing driver on Top Gear for anyone who has been living under a rock). This adds another twist of slightly chauvinistic Britishness to the mix. The choice of Collins for the stunt driver is made better still by the fact that he did serve with the SAS for a while adding another connection to the shadow world of our intelligence services and special forcer.

Go see it. See it at the earliest possible opportunity.

JR

Be Careful what you Joke About

During the Diamond Jubilee celebrations much was made about the fact that, at a street party attended by Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall, two verses of 'God Save The Queen' were sung.

At the time, I joked to my girlfriend that only immigrants knew both verses and that was due to their need to pass citizenship tests.

Well it appears my joke may not have been too far from the truth. An article in today's Telegraph (link to follow) is saying that now, migrants have greater knowledge of British culture than native Brits.

Life imitating art or what?

I now predict that I will win the lottery and Pippa Middleton will stumble across my profile on facebook and decide she's madly in love with me. Here's hoping anyway.

JR

In the Presence of Greatness

This week has been quite a week and there's more to come. It has been a time of landmark events and life's high points.

As you may have guessed, I am a bit of a fan of the James Bond franchise and this week has been rather heavy on Bond events.

Let's start with today and work backwards. Today Skyfall goes on general release; the 23rd Bond film is released on the anniversary of the release of Dr. No, the first one. My tickets for a screening tomorrow are nestled in my wallet and I can't wait. So far the reviews have been overwhelmingly positive. My own will be going up soon.

But let's go back a few days. On Tuesday it was the Royal World Premier of Skyfall at the Albert Hall. The entire street in front of the front entrance was covered in 007 logos, themes from previous films were being pumped out and one of the most famous characters of all made a guest appearance; the Aston Martin DB5.

Daniel Craig arrived in a Range Rover of all things (unusual in that it is a car I both would and wouldn't associate with Bond) and was greeted by a roar from the crowds. I can't begin to imagine what he was feeling then but to be the recipient of such adoration must be incredible. More so because, at that moment, he knew he was the living embodiment of James Bond (even if his watch was a Rolex rather than an Omega - yes folks, I am that sad). Craig, in my opinion, is a truly magnificent Bond and richly deserves the reception. What impressed me more was the way he ignored the army of pretty PR girls trying to shepherd him up the red carpet and spent time interacting with fans and signing autographs. From interviews he has given, I get the strong impression that he genuinely respects the fans of his films generally and especially Bond fans given the nerdy love most of them have. He also gives the impression of being a genuine Bond fan which is always a good thing.

After Craig's arrival came the rest of the cast and crew in suitable red carpet style. Notable among the attendees were the Rolls Royce from Goldfinger. Another nice touch was the Rolls from View to a Kill being used. The car in the film belonged to the producer Cubby Broccoli and on Tuesday his daughter Barbara, the current producer, was the one to arrive in it. That's just cool!

So was I at this spectacular event? Was I screaming like a teenage girl at a boyband concert? Much as I would have loved to be there, I wasn't. I watched it on youtube. I was at the Albert Hall the next day but sadly for a far less auspicious event. The whole place was cloaked in anticlimax.

On Tuesday night I was in the ultra-glamorous location of Basingstoke. Was I disappointed to be there rather than in London? Apart from the natural disappointment of not being in London generally, not a bit of it. I had a wonderful evening at the one event on the planet that could equal the Royal World Premier of Skyfall. I was at 'An Evening with Roger Moore'.

Roger Moore is the actor with the most Bond films to his name. He has had seven outings ranging from Live and Let Die to View to a Kill and on Tuesday I spent a fabulous evening listening to him tell stories from his illustrious career (although surprisingly little about Bond). More men have walked on the moon than have played the main role in a Bond film and I got to spend the evening in the company of one of them.

Although occasionally showing his age, Sir Roger was on fine form. He was witty, charming, naturally suave and exuded a natural warmth. The evening was aided by a compère asking Sir Roger questions about his life and career. He clearly knew his stuff and never tried to take over the process. What really impressed me was that the whole evening was unscripted. As well as being naturally hilarious a lot of the anecdotes told were extremely risqué however he is one of those men that can say the most outrageous things and still not sound smutty. As well as talking about his film career, Sir Roger talked at great length and with obvious passion about his career as a UNICEF ambassador. It was genuinely touching to hear him talk with such passion and conviction about sharing the gifts that he had been bestowed upon him with others.

The event that sealed the night to perfection was of course when he quoted his line... "My name is Bond. James Bond." Wonderful.

So a bit of a Bond-themed week. I am now counting the hours until I take my seat in the cinema and see the film I have been eagerly anticipating for years.

JR

Reunion

A few weeks ago I had a reunion of the people I was in Africa with ten years ago. Ten years. It seems hard to believe. In many ways it seems like yesterday that I signed out of school with a nonchalant  "Got to go, I'm off to Africa!" (yes, I was that much of a knob but in my defence I was only 16). I still remember a lot of the details almost forensically; the in jokes, the silly sayings, the things we did and most of all the people involved.

I must admit I was a little apprehensive about meeting everyone again. For the most part, and despite conscious effort, I have lost touch with a lot of them. People drift apart especially when they are fairly spread out and following their own lives, career paths  and such like. Perhaps the age we were at made it worse; we were going off to uni or travelling and generally spreading out and going through a lot of changes. Facebook also has a lot to answer for. It makes it easy to keep in touch with people passively so one sees what's happening in people's lives without having to make an effort. In short, I only properly kept in touch with one of them.

What surprised me most about the reunion is how little everybody had changed. Yes we have all grown up, (mostly) got jobs, degrees and several have even gotten married in the interim but looking round the table during the night out, everyone looked (and by and large was acting) exactly the same. Apart from slight changes in sartorial tastes (mostly for the better) nobody looked any different. Furthermore it was incredible how we all picked up pretty much as we left off. Apart from a tiny wee bit of awkwardness at the very start, it was as if we had only met up a few weeks ago, not ten years.

For some reason I found the latter aspect especially terribly reassuring. Friendships do last, even in this increasingly transient world (and I admit I am very guilty of upping sticks and moving to the other end of the country). The bonds forged by shared experience and life events last a decade at least, hopefully a lifetime.

Apart from making me incredibly nostalgic, the whole evening made me profoundly glad I had the opportunity to meet and get to know such a wonderful group of people. Not just get to know them but get to experience what we did together.

Hopefully it won't be as long as ten years before we all meet again. The reunion has certainly galvanised my resolve to keep in touch with more of the group and broken that awkward stalemate that can arise out of substantial gaps in communication.

For now, Sopa!

JR

Schooldays...

I saw a headline about children being taught Chinese in schools the other day and it made me think about my own school days. Originally I was going to write a post about my favourite subject but instead I'm going to have a trawl through my school life more generally and think about what advice I would have given myself if given access to a time machine.

As a bit of a background I went to a bloody good comprehensive school (this isn't going to be a rant of state v private schooling. In the main I am in favour of the concept of private education but it so happened that my school was on a par on all indicators with the surrounding mid-level private schools) and I think I had an experience that could be firmly classified as normal. I wasn't exceptionally gifted but nor was I struggling through. I wasn't the most popular person there but equally I was lucky enough to be surrounded by nice people: as it turns out more than I thought - during the prefect elections in my final year, people whom I thought barely registered me were telling me they voted for me. I was lucky enough to have some extremely good teachers along with some not so good ones. You get the drift. My school-days were unremarkable; like an episode of "The Inbetweeners" with fewer outrageous hi jinx and even less success with girls (believe it or not it is possible to be less successful with girls than they were).

Unsurprisingly, the character I identified most with in the Inbetweeners was Will (only less snobbish and without the briefcase or feacal incontinence). For some reason I have never liked either football or rugby (probably as a result of having a condition that affects my coordination meaning kicking, throwing or catching the ball was something of an event for me). This combined with the fact that I really couldn't make myself get excited about either just to fit in marked me out as "different" and meant that for a large part of my school days I was never quite one of the lads. It also brought out my innate eccentricity (when one feels one doesn't conform one feels no need to try which is extremely liberating) and allowed me to be myself and fairly independent from early on. During my later years at school especially, I think my general attitude of taking life on my own terms won me quite a bit of respect too. Before this gets too psycho-analytical, I wasn't that bad and certainly not a complete loner; I was just able to enjoy my own company as well as that of others. I think, like many others, I grew far more socially confident and diverse as soon as I hit university. Advice to self on the social front then? Probably to be less afraid of getting involved with people and a bit less stand-offish. Piss-taking isn't particularly meant personally and shouldn't be taken as such... and just chill out a bit. Oh and talk to XX (being generic issues for fanciable girls); pining and making doe-eyes at them in maths is all very well but they aren't going to know unless you tell them and you never know what might happen.

Now what of subjects. Generally I think I chose those fairly well. Certainly, I got good grades throughout and for the most part I enjoyed them. I knew from fairly early on that my biggest strength was learning then applying facts rather than playing with slightly nebulous concepts so that, combined with my aptitude and general interest made, science an obvious choice. Luckily I was at one of the schools in my local authority group that allowed students to study all three sciences. Maths and English were compulsory at standard grade level (roughly equivalent to GCSE) and that was probably a good thing. History was a good choice. I was, and still am, fascinated by events in the past (even if I don't entirely agree with the curriculum as it was laid out) and part of the course was a nuts and bolts guide to critical thinking which I have used and adapted ever since in a variety of contexts and has served me well.

Now on to the more controversial bits. In these days of post-Olympics hysteria it's probably an imprisonable offence to say that I hated P.E. at school but there you have it I loathed every second. It wasn't that I hated sport, I swam and rowed a lot in my spare time - not just the odd dip or splash I mean training for 6 hours plus in the water and four hours on the water, so I was certainly sporty I just didn't see the point in being forced into sports I had no interest in doing in the first place and no intention of continuing afterwards. If I had been allowed to pursue a training programme laid down by my rowing or swimming coach during P.E. time that might have been different, not to mention worthwhile, but as it was, I just felt my time was being wasted. And before you say all exercise is good exercise: there wasn't even that much exercise, it was more standing around getting cold followed by occasional bursts of gentle exertion. Even the swimming was excruciating as the curriculum only covered the very basics which any swimmer has a conditioned reflex and the pool was so overcrowded that one was barely able to take more than a stroke without bumping into someone else. I doubt my experience was unique, I'm not sure I've ever encountered someone who enjoyed P.E. as a subject although if you did, let me know.

Now on to my next gripes. I'm not sure if it was school, local authority or government policy that insisted all students must study a language and at least one "arty" subject at standard grade but whoever came up with it should feel ashamed. It was certainly arbitrary and pointless in my book. I opted to study German as my language on the rather flimsy logic that I hated french and my granny was German so I could justify the change. In truth, I don't think I ever spoke a word of German to my granny (she had been living in Scotland for at least forty years by the time I knew her) nor did I particularly enjoy learning it. In my opinion there are those that are linguistically orientated and those that aren't. If you are then you can pick up languages with relative ease and enjoy doing it. If you aren't then the whole process is an absolute chore. I am one of the latter. The only language that would have been subsequently useful to learn was one that wasn't taught (probably some inverted snobbery on the part of a labour education authority) and that was Latin. As a subsequent student of both biology and law, Latin would have been tremendously useful in remembering and gaining a greater understanding of both subjects. In biology, it would have given clues as to the structure and function of a vast array of things I encountered. In law, it would have made the pithy Latin epithets I had to learn parrot fashion more understandable and as a result more memorable.

Now on to the "arty" stuff. As you can probably guess, I'm not "arty" or "creative" or whatever other euphemism you want to use so being forced to do it grated a bit. I chose music on the basis that I already played (well tortured) two musical instruments to a reasonable degree so it would be the least painful of the lot. Was it a good choice? Given what was available to me, probably. But it was still a monumental drag and again, felt like an enormous waste of my time. Would I tell my schoolboy self to do it again? Maybe. As a now passionate cook, part of me wonders if it would have been fun to do home economics however what I experienced before I chose my subjects was not inspiring. Far from being a basic cookery course to equip people to be just about self-sufficient; it was instead a comprehensive guide to washing up with some sewing, a lot of irrelevant crap about design of packaging and nutritional values for foodstuffs and the occasional bit of cooking for good measure. Although I have used some of the recipes I learned then since (and with some success) I only learned two vital lessons. Firstly, that ingredients do genuinely matter. They don't have to be the most expensive going but they do have to be of reasonable quality. Secondly, that vegetarian food is vile. The "arty" subject I would have really liked to study (and would have gained some genuine benefit from) was drama - probably slightly influenced by the fact that my father was a drama teacher and was full of stories of the amazing things he got up to in class. Not only did the subject sound interesting, it was essentially a fairly comprehensive guide on presentation skills and how one's own actions influence and are interpreted by others. Think about it, presentations, public speaking, even presenting in a meeting or job interviews are all performances to a greater or lesser degree and gaining an understanding of performance allows one to understand audience reactions and how to manipulate your own behaviour to suit and get a favourable reaction. Sadly, despite repeated lobbying, my school didn't have a drama department so I missed out on that. My dad did manage to teach me the essence of the above skills but like many practical skills, learning the theory one on one is not quite a substitute for experience and practice. So on balance, me at fourteen, stick with music if you have to do something "arty" but try your luck and see if you could be allowed to do geography instead; it's much more interesting.

The last bit of advice for my standard grade self would be to consider doing something businessy (ideally in place of German if I wasn't allowed to do Latin) principally because otherwise you will leave University a die-hard scientist with no understanding of the corporate world. Perhaps having a basic understanding of how a business functions and the language, etc used would give you the confidence to launch yourself into a career rather that do a secondary professional qualification. It wouldn't be a magic bullet but it might be something.

Now on to my highers. Generally I think I made a pretty good call with those. Again, I did the three sciences and by and large enjoyed them (even if my Chemistry teacher was a bit of a dragon and physics was a bit mathsy). I have found all of them extremely useful since and not just in my degree or in pub quizzes. Studying science has given me the confidence to apply known quantities logically to problems allowing me to arrive at a conclusion. English as well I loved. It was a fantastic opportunity to interact with some wonderful literature and gain a greater understanding of the richness of the language. It also gave me a lot of confidence to interact with and use English as a language. Conversely - and probably counter-intuitively - it has given me a life-long aversion to Shakespear and a deep suspicion of poetry. I think my advice to my younger self would be to take it further as a subject: on to advanced higher at least. Equally, I would tell my younger self to drop maths like a red-hot ticking bomb. I hated every minute of it, I struggled and I was certainly not good at it. The maths I needed for other courses was more than adequately covered in the courses themselves so subjecting myself to a year of mind-numbing tedium seems a bit massochistic. I know maths is a "good" subject to do and is terribly worthy and all that but words really struggle to express how much I hated it.

My final bit of advice to my younger self would be to do all the extra curricular stuff I did. It was useful in more ways than I can list. I was lucky, not only was my headmaster a wonderful leader, he was also a pupil advocate (ok I invented that concept) by which I mean, he saw school as a service for pupils rather than a statistic on a league table or a vehicle to generate data for the local education authority. As such, as well as fostering academic excellence, he encouraged, supported, aided and abetted lots of extra-curricular activities which were a) fun and b) great for developing pupils as people. Not only that but he genuinely cared about the opinions of his pupils and did his best to incorporate what they wanted from the school into school life. I had the fortune of getting to know him quite well through the pupil council as well as volunteering at various school events and I always felt that he was interested in what we had to say and that no issue was too trivial to be considered at least.

While I'm doing gushing name checks it's also worth mentioning the learning support department. The vast majority of teachers at the school were excellent, most of the remainder were good to mediocre and there were only a few that were bad. Departments were the same (and this is feedback from other pupils I got while I was on the pupil council as well as my own opinion). However, I have special praise for the learning support department. As a student with a learning disability (albeit a minor one) they literally could not have done more to help both in terms of encouragement and in terms of practical help. They listened to my needs both as I saw them and as was described to an educational psychologist and accommodated them without fuss or ceremony.

So that's it, my school days in a nutshell. Were they the fabled best days of my life? No, not even close. I was glad to get out and move on to pastures new but they did set me up well for the pastures I was expecting and the ones that came as a surprise and for that I'm grateful.

JR

Adele's Skyfall

Unless you are living under a rock somewhere then it won't have escaped your notice that there's a new James Bond film out next week.

As a passionate Bond fan the few weeks before the release of a new film is always a bit of an ordeal. Part of me really wants to read every word written, watch every second of trailer and listen to every radio interview. The rest of me wants to switch off from it all, ignore the hype then have my first experience as the film. Normally I reach a compromise by watching the official trailers, reading the reviews in the papers I read anyway and listening to the theme tune (which is nigh on impossible to escape anyway).

So it came to pass a couple of days ago that I heard the new Skyfall tune in it's entirety. I had originally tuned into the show to listen to it being presented by a couple of comedian I like, it just so happened that this was one of the tunes that was to be played.

I have to say, I'm not impressed. The Bond music (apart from the original Monty Norman tune) is not an area of the franchise that I'm prone to get passionate about. Normally I see it as an irritating interlude before the film can be gotten into properly or an opportunity to get a beer. If I'm watching a Bond on DVD most of the time I will skip it all together. However I acknowledge that the tunes are an extremely important part of the film and generate a lot of revenue in their own right.

So what's the problem with this particular offering? In my opinion it's turgid, boring, lacking in "oomph" and generally uninspiring. It's a shame really, in a way it obeys a lot of the classic rules of Bond themes. It's big, it's bold, it's unhurried almost languid in pace and the overall "sound" (I'm sure there's a musical term but I'm buggered if I know it) is very Bondesque. However it lacks a certain something that elevates it. It is evidently aiming to compete against the Dame Shirley Bassey type theme tunes but doesn't quite measure up. It's a bit thin, scrawny almost for want of a better term. As a final coup de grace, the backing singers that come in at strategic points give it a certain musical theatre quality which would be best kept on the West End stage as it's a bit 'Bond does Broadway'.

Ok so that was fairly damning criticism and I will admit I'm not particularly easy to impress. I will give lots of credit for trying to return to the Bassey type themes (given Connery is my favourite Bond that's hardly a surprise I suppose) rather than the recent trend for pop songs and I will almost certainly become more fond of it in time. In the mean time, bring on the film.

JR

TASER Use

Apparently yesterday police in Britain TASERed a blind man believing his white stick was a samurai sword. This proves that all British police are moronic, trigger-happy thugs who shoot first and ask questions later (if at all). Naturally. British bobbies are incapable of doing anything apart from inflicting violence don't you know? They certainly can't defuse a tense situation using nothing more than words, nor can they resist near endless provocation from members of the public intent on having a scrap before arresting them with minimal force and the certainly can't offer sympathy, comfort and solace to the recently believed often in tragic circumstances (and despite the fact that an alarming number look so young that they need a note from their mum to be out at night). Certainly, in the case of the latter, I have never attended Coroner's inquests where the relatives of the deceased (the unexpected death of a baby and a rather messy suicide) took time during their evidence and despite their obvious distress to thank the police officers who attended the scene for their kindness and compassion while at the scene. That sort of stuff never happens because British police are far too busy driving around recklessly and gratuitously kicking the shit out of people.

Now undoubtedly there will be some who say that mistaking a blind person's white stick for a samurai sword is as ludicrous as mistaking a guide dog for a pit bull but let's take a step back over the next few minutes and have a look. I don't know all the facts of this case nor am I a police officer so there will be a large amount of conjecture but bear with me until the end and see if what I'm saying makes sense. First off let's bear in mind that despite the uniform, police officers are human beings. Bullets don't bounce off them, knives don't bend when they come into contact with a police uniform. The recent tragic events in Manchester show this all to clearly. This means that they have lives, family and friends that they wish to see again. Just because they have signed up to do a job that involves an element of danger doesn't mean that they forfeit the right to go home at the end of the day uninjured. Therefore we cannot expect police officers to simply saunter up to someone who they suspect is armed without a thought for their own safety.

Ok, so we've established the police have a right to have regard for their own safety. What about this situation? I will say again that I don't know all the facts of the case but I doubt the TASER will have been used lightly. Some will argue that the individual in question was an old man using a white stick to get around. Fair enough but and old person isn't necessarily a nice person and pretty much any item under the sun can be weaponised or have a weapon concealed in it. If anybody is going to know this then surely it will be a police officer - they have to deal with the more unpleasant aspects of society on a daily basis. As I have said before, they have the right to go home in one piece so it would not be unreasonable of them to go for a worst-case scenario in their risk-assessment. Certainly I would if I were in their position, then things can only get better.

So assuming they opted for a worst-case scenario what were the options? Again I'm not a police officer so this is essentially conjecture but as I see it the options are as follows: get up close and personal to restrain, detain and disarm the individual using either their bare hands or batons (bearing in mind, at this point they are still assuming he is carrying something nasty); use a device to temporarily incapacitate him from a distance keeping the officers safe, the surrounding public safe and ultimately the suspect safe (yes being TASERed isn't going to be comfortable but it will be short-lived and ultimately the vast majority walk away either unscathed or with minor bumps and bruises); finally, the officers could have called in armed colleagues (even if TASER is carried routinely British police are still essentially unarmed) who, if they perceived a genuine threat could have legitimately shot the individual in question.

Let's look at the first option. Common sense dictates that if you're going into a close-quarters confrontation with someone that you are assuming is armed you go in mob-handed and using serious amounts of force so your potential assailant is quickly overwhelmed, overpowered and rendered incapable of using whatever weapon they may have. However this undoubtedly puts the safety of the officers at risk because they will be up close to someone that is potentially armed and doesn't particularly want to be arrested. It is also extremely violent and could well result in serious injury to the suspect.

Now let's go to the third option; calling in armed officers. If the suspect for whatever reason doesn't follow the commands given, they are at serious risk of being shot if the officers in question believe there is a serious and genuine risk to public safety (and here there is precedent for officers opening fire on a suspect whom they genuinely believed to be armed at the time but who later turned out to be unarmed). Despite what Holywood shows, gunshots are serious injuries; they cause extensive injuries. Now police officers in the UK, as far as I'm aware, are not trained to 'shoot to kill' but 'shooting to wound' is a fallacy. Bullet wounds are serious enough that there is a realistic prospect of death for the recipient. What's more the police are trained to shoot at the central mass of a person, the torso essentially, to maximise the chance of a) hitting the target so nobody else gets injured by stray bullets and b) maximise the chance of disabling the target. If things are serious enough for police to open fire then the last thing they want is the person they have shot either getting back up or still being able to use their weapon from the ground. This is a serious situation but not necessarily an over reaction if you are of the belief that you are about to confront someone who is armed and prepared to use a weapon.

This leaves option number two where non-lethal force is used from a safe distance to temporarily incapacitate the suspect allowing them to be restrained, police to gain control of the situation and the full facts verified before further decisions taken. Suddenly it doesn't seem so bad does it? The suspect is neither faced with overwhelming physical force from the police (a hail of fists and batons) nor do they find themselves with a gunshot wound. Police officers, like everyone else in Britain, have the right to use reasonable force to defend themselves and other people. They have also taken an oath to defend the population of this country and as a result they will find themselves in situations where they face danger and force is required (I would argue that the definition of "reasonable" in law should be altered slightly to reflect this but that's a longer and more academic point). Also, it's worth bearing in mind that the officers in question would not have simply strolled up an zapped this man. They would have tried to engage him verbally first then given a number of oral warnings before finally deploying the TASER. In short, they would have given ample opportunity so surrender and sort out any misunderstanding before resorting to force.

This particular story has struck a particular chord with me personally at the moment because I am actively considering joining the police. One of the biggest factors, in my mind, against it beyond the pay, pension and working conditions (although I don't really know any different so that's not as much of an issue) is the fact that police officers are expected to go into dangerous situations unarmed and are seemingly expected to resolve them by doing nothing more than asking nicely (this isn't Midsommer Murders). Personally, I believe police should be armed. It's that simple. Right now, there is no real reason not to attack police if they are telling you something you don't want to hear. You might get a few bruises where they restrain you more roughly but balance that against the fact you might just escape and even if you do get arrested for assaulting a police officer, it's enormously unlikely it will be taken further and if it is, it's even more unlikely you will get a meaningful sentence. If the police were armed and people knew they were at risk of serious injury if they tried to fight their way out I genuinely believe they would think twice about trying it on. Even if police aren't routinely armed, I would still be prepared to do the job knowing there was a risk involved. However although I am aware there is a risk to my personal safety, I would not be prepared to recklessly endanger myself nor do I expect others to do so. Given that precondition, a TASER starts sounding better and better. Apart from the fact it can be used remotely, it's effects are generally short-lived. Without it things could certainly escalate. Speaking strictly for myself I have never really been in a fight (beyond schoolboy handbags) so even with self-defence training there's no guarantee I would be coming out of it in control. Leaving that aside for a moment, hitting someone inevitably means using one's own body to apply force. Basic biophysics dictates therefore that you yourself are open to injury just (punching is especially bad for causing wrist injuries - hence why boxers strap up their hands). Therefore, in this hypothetical conflict where I'm hypothetically a police officer, my first choice would probably be to draw and use my baton. So we have an individual being hit with an object here and one designed to transfer force. Furthermore, let's not mince words, they're going to be hit hard since I want them incapacitated quickly or worried enough about their own safety that they forget to threaten mine. Hitting them hard will probably cause injury ranging from extensive bruising to broken bones. Again, suddenly pain and the cuts/bruises associated with a fall seems a lot less severe now - arguably less violent and forceful than the alternatives.

Apologies for rambling. My point is essentially, while not knowing the full facts of the case, there are two sides to the story and the officers involved in the case have the right to have their innocence presumed until strong evidence shows otherwise. We cannot and should not expect the police officers protecting us to expose themselves needlessly to excessive risks. As such, we should bear in mind that when approaching a situation they are almost certainly thinking, "What's the worst that could happen?" and acting accordingly to protect their safety and the safety of the public in general. This should be commended rather than criticised.

JR

The Crystal Girls

You come across some strange videos on youtube don't you? I mean who thinks of filming half of it? But amongst the weird stuff are some complete gems. This is one. Have a look, go on.

For those of you that don't know, Crystal Palace football club have a team of cheerleaders to entertain fans, players and first aiders before the match and at half time. For sport relief this year a group of Palace fans have joined in the routine, in the centre circle, at half time, during an actual game. Go them.

I have spent more time than I would really care to think about getting slowly hypothermic at Crystal Palace games when providing first aid cover. Despite the fact that I am most emphatically not into football, they have always been quite fun. Possibly because the football is a bit of a sideshow. First off they have a selection of cheesy playlists to play before the match, a club song which always creates a tidal wave of cheering when it's played, mascots who dance and wind up the crowd, real eagles (the club's mascot) to fly over the pitch and a generally good atmosphere. Oh and did I mention the squad of beautiful bronzed young women cavorting about at ever opportunity?

On the rare occasions we have had to treat people, the fans have always been a good laugh and willing to help out where possible which is always a big plus. Treating (and I imagine being treated) in a crowd is neither fun nor easy but it's so much harder if you constantly have to watch your back and keep an escape route in mind. Never an issue with Palace. What made me really respect and admire them was a couple of years ago, when the club was on the verge of going bankrupt, they had a whip-round on a massive scale to raise the money owed to St. John Ambulance for our services (an amount that ran into several tens of thousands of pounds. And before anyone says anything, yes we are a charity but because of the scale of what we do and the fact that we have lots of specialist equipment and vehicles to maintain as well as ongoing member training we charge a fee for coming out on duty. This fee represents cost price and not profit). The fans really didn't have to do this. They paid their ticket fees, it's not therefore unreasonable for them to expect all this to be taken care of. What made the gesture even more touching is the fact that Crystal Palace and the surrounding area is not a well off one, it's not the most poverty stricken by far but it's still far from rolling in it. The fans mostly come from here so the fact that they were willing to put their hands in their pockets means a lot.

So back to the video. Apparently the fans/victims had a couple of training sessions with the Crystal Girls (spending time with lovely girls in lycra... Ok it's sounding less bad) before their debut (and I suspect only) performance. They carried it off with quite some aplomb. Not only did they get up and get out there - in the same figure hugging outfits - but they managed to bust some serious moves too. Go them. 

I have to say, I don't get embarrassed easily. I will do many things for money and if it's to raise money for charity then there is almost no limit to the humiliation which I will endure. Almost! Despite the offer of lycra clad ladies and raising funds for good causes I think I might draw the line there. I don't have a problem with getting up in drag. I do have serious issues with my ability to dance. The fact that these guys did it, allowed evidence of such activity to be recorded and did it in front of their mates earns them a lot of respect in my book.

Go on, if you haven't had a look already then click the link. Watch a couple of their other videos too... although maybe not if you're in the office.

JR

History in Progress

I've spent the last few days up in Scotland. The main reason for this was to go to a reunion of friends that I was in Africa with ten years ago but I took the opportunity to spend a few days with my parents relaxing and generally having a break from the soul-destroying grind that is job hunting.

While I was up there, my dad and I spent the days going round some museums. Part of this was general curiosity partly about their contents, partly because the ones we visited had been recently renovated, redeveloped and, in one case, even relocated. These were places I visited a lot as a kid of various ages, partly for the latent exhibits, partly for special exhibitions and workshops so each place was heavy with memories. The fact that I was on a bit of a nostalgia high after the reunion probably contributed to my desire to revisit these places but mainly I was curious, these projects have been publicised for years.

The first one dad and I visited was the National Museum of Scotland in Chambers Street, Edinburgh. I have a long, long history with this place having visited it more times that I would care to count. I have even spent the night in there as part of the children's science festival and been on a torch-light tour at some ungodly hour. I was also part of a forensic science workshop where I first learned some of the techniques I would later use in my degree.

My overall reaction was a bit mixed. I certainly don't like the old entrance hall. They have removed the iconic fountains that were a centrepiece of the hall and moved the totem pole which used to stand by the entrance. Instead the entrance has been moved down a level into what was, I presume, a basement. This feature I rather liked. The dimly-lit vaulted ceilings and bare sandstone walls gave the impression of being in a whisky cellar.

As for the rest of the museum, I thought the new layout was generally rather good. The grouping of exhibits was logical and the various galleries were linked well (although there were a few too many animal models hanging off the ceiling of the biology section making it a bit different to work out what was what). Also, there was a bit too much information contained within computerised touch-screen display panels which meant pulling a few interesting shapes to look into a cabinet while reading some background information on the exhibit. The computer displays also relied a lot on videos, audio recording and (pointless) sound effects which meant that I found the level of background noise almost unbearably high. Although not necessarily loud it was always there and at a level which made it difficult to process the information one was obtaining.

The history of Scotland section which is in the west extension was another change. I liked the way that different eras were presented on different levels. Display labels were also much more prevalent which I liked and again, it was fairly logically presented. My two main complaints would be that the layout of the floorspace is needlessly complicated making it a bit like a maze (at one stage, dad and I found ourselves standing on a balcony looking at the coffee shop and faced with either backtracking and trying another arm to get a coffee or contemplating a James Bond style leap). Also, the recent history of Scotland had a seriously left-wing political bias which is not only misrepresentative but also desperately short sighted as it ignores not only right-wing figures but apolitical figures in science and the arts.

Most of these observations are, if not minor details, then certainly enough to put anyone off a visit if they are considering it, just my personal observations coloured by my memories of how it was. Importantly (from a small boy's perspective at least) the mechanically working models of various vehicles were still there!

The other museum we went to was the museum of transport in Glasgow. As well as the many generic memories I have from my younger days, it is also the site of one of the few really concrete memories I have of my maternal grandfather so it has always been a bit special. As well as a mock-up of an old Glasgow street there were lots of wonderful old cars, motorbikes, busses and (critically for a four year old boy) trains and fire engines.

Since I last visited, the museum has moved from it's original site in Kelvingrove to it's new home on the banks of the Clyde. The move came with a new building and an evidently high architect's bill. From the outside it was impressive. Moving in itself was a bit of a mixed blessing. On the one hand, by being beside the river, it can include the tall ship berthed in Glasgow adding another layer to the experience. It is also next to the heliport so, although probably not intentional, helicopters of various shapes and sizes can be seen too. The downside it that I imagine it will be quite hard to access without a car.

On the inside, the museum is open plan so it's easy to track what one has and hasn't seen. Although I'm sure there is an order to the layout however it's not immediately obvious which can be a bit of off-putting. Again there is a bit too much in the way of computer displays with badly filmed and excruciatingly camp videos which gives a cartoonish dimension to a lot of the exhibits. They have also stacked lots of fantastic classic cars vertically on one wall making it almost impossible to actually see lots of them. I can't help thinking they would have been better spending less money on fancy buildings and used it to buy a bigger plot of land so everything could be displayed at eye level. For some reason they also saw fit to display lots of vintage clothing (including a ceramic 'muff warmer' which raised a schoolboy giggle) which I didn't quite understand.

On a more positive note, they still have the beautiful steam trains and classic fire engines of my youth. They also have some incredible scale models of ships built in Glasgow that they obtained from the shipyards who built them (apparently building a scale model was routine). The reproduction of the old Glasgow street was also still there and still looking good. There was also an '80s ambulance with an interesting display of old medical equipment which the ambulance geek in me enjoyed and there were some stunning views over the east end of Glasgow.

Again, despite my criticisms, it is certainly worth a visit for adults, kids and overgrown small boys alike.

Hope you enjoyed my little ramble through some of Scotland's museums and, if it has prompted you to go, that you enjoy them.

JR

Another Lucky Escape

Last week, my girlfriend offered to do all the cooking: an offer I wasn't going to turn down in a hurry. Since she met me (a highly enthusiastic amateur) food has gone from being fuel to a bit of a passion for her as well. Since this revelation she has not only started cooking more and enjoying the process, she has been getting ever more creative in the kitchen. Therefore a week of having delicious food cooked for me sounded rather good. It did also mean that she set the menu...

To be fair; it was a heady mix of tried and tested favourites, dishes she had made before but I hadn't tried and new dishes conceived for the occasion. So far so good. BUT there was one fly in the ointment. A black sheep. An outlier in-keeping with the letter of the offer if not the spirit. Vegetarian lasagne.

I have written before about my feelings on vegetarianism; suffice to say, I think it's a fairly serious eating disorder. However, on principle I make a point of trying virtually anything vaguely edible that's put in front of me. If I don't like it, I will never touch it again and hopefully come up with a pith put-down or two but I will certainly eat it.

Therefore, making suitably grateful noises (and I was genuinely grateful that she has been cooking for me even if it wasn't exactly what I would have chosen), I manfully tucked in. To be fair it wasn't half bad. The bechamel was lovely and velvety in texture with a nice cheesy hit, the lasagne was lovely and tender and the filling was nice, rich and thick. There was an interesting mix of texture and flavour and the mouth-feel was rather nice. However it just missed the mark. It lacked a certain something. Something to give it depth, flavour, texture and a rather more elusive concept; satisfyingness. That certain something could be achieved quickly, easily and very, very nicely by the addition of one key ingredient... MEAT!

From the moment I heard about the vegetarian lasagne, I did my best to be gallant and hide my natural reticence to the dish. I made vaguely positive remarks (if a bit stoic) or avoided saying anything at all. However as I'm rarely shy about sharing my feelings my girlfriend knew exactly how I felt about the concept of vegetarian food. The tension rose as the day drew on. However, ultimately, I have nothing but praise for the dish. A surprise ingredient that made the dish. It came out the blue and was a true bit of creative genius by my girlfriend. What was this wonderful ingredient that made the whole dish perfect? A couple of slices of the meatloaf left over from the night before! Nice one JRGF.

So, as you can see from the above the dish was a very, very lucky escape!

JR

Concorde

I saw Concorde the other day. Despite the fact that I'm not one to get dewey-eyed over aircraft, it was a poignant experience.

The first time I ever saw a Concorde, she was in flight. I was at a rowing training camp and she roared over the course. Despite the fact that she was still subsonic, the noise was incredible.

Sadly, not many months later, an air France plane crash. This ultimately heralded the end of the most magnificent civilian aircraft ever to fly. As Jeremy Clarkson said at the time, not only did we mourn the loss of the people involved in the crash, we mourned the aircraft too. When the crash happened, I knew the days of Concorde were numbered. A few years later Concorde was to fly for the last time an human progress was to take a massive step backwards. Now, a supersonic passenger plane developed in the 1970s and arguably more complex than the space shuttle will never fly again.

Recently I saw a Concorde on an almost daily bases; she was parked up in the BA section of Heathrow. Obviously she stood out but, as she was parked up next to lots of other planes, it looked like she was only there temporarily rather than decommissioned.

This time was different. I saw her in an aircraft museum in Scotland. She stood alone in a hangar, surrounded by relics of her life in service. The whole atmosphere was still and quiet. Our footsteps echoed off the walls of the hangar. And in the middle of it all was this machine, capable of almost incomprehensible feats, with phenomenal presence. It was breathtaking and awe-inspiring. I know I'm going heavy on the hyperbole but it was a surprisingly emotional experience. Yet again I felt genuinely sad about what had happened.

The museum itself was in the buildings of a former World War II airfield which probably added to the atmosphere. As it was a week day, my dad and I were virtually the only customers and wondering around the deserted, windswept airfield which was littered with relics and without another human in sight felt very isolated. It was one of the few places I have visited where history has gently but assertively made it's presence felt. It would be an exaggeration to say that seeing a Spitfire or an airship come into land wouldn't have come as a surprise but shut your eyes and the image comes to mind easily.

It wasn't just seeing Concorde that was a bit sad. Another hangar was devoted to military aircraft. On display were a Harrier, a Buccaneer and a Tornado. All three have been in service until recently. I have read the book by the general who deployed the Buccaneer in the first Gulf War, I have read about the exploits of Harriers and I have seen the Tornados train and respond from Leuchars. These are still very contemporary aircraft. They still have potential roles to play and it seems a shame that the only reason they have been decomissioned is mismanagement of funds by previous governments. They are not museum pieces. It would be a huge shame if there was a repeat of the Falklands where, to get Vulcans (an example of which was also at the museum; one of only a small number to have flown in the Falklands) airworthy, air museums had to be plundered for parts and equipment. The story about a vital component serving as an ashtray in the Officers' mess is funny but sad as well.

Before this gets too depressing may I qualify the above by saying the museum is fantastic. It is well laid out, informative and very hands on. Not only that but there are lots of opportunities to get up close to iconic aircraft and learn manageable amounts about them.

Well worth a trip.

JR

Concorde

Faith in Humanity

My faith in humanity has been (partially) restored. Being a bit of a sad geek, I was looking at the stats on my blog. It turns out that my post on living like James Bond has been read as many times as one about Kate Middleton topless. It seems that, attractive as the prospect of Mrs Wales naked is, people aren't so obsessed with it as to ignore everything else. I am suitably reassured about human nature.

JR

A Dream Not Quite Come True

It had to happen but I must admit, when it did, it came as a bit of a bump. Since moving to Oxford, I've been on a mission to find Inspector Morse esque pubs. You know the type; "quaint" for want of a better term. Not to mention good real ale. Ideally a garden with stunning views too.

So far I've had a reasonable track record of discovery through nothing other than dropping into pubs that look good. You might not be able to judge a book by it's cover but you can certainly judge a pub by it's exterior. However this run of luck had to end. The disappointing bit is that the pub in question actually featured in an episode of Inspector Morse. When I saw the episode I fully expected the pub to be somewhere else entirely, picked for the purposes of looking good rather than it's location, however some boredom and a bit of time on google earth revealed that it was where the episode said it was.

So far so good. Before I go further, let me clarify that I fully appreciate that the episode was filmed more than thirty years ago so expecting the place to be identical is more than a little unreasonable. However it was still more than a little disappointing.

Initially things looked good. The setting was truly picturesque; the Thames was flowing over a waterfall, the surrounding buildings were old and thatched and the whole area had the feeling of a remote country village. Better still, the building was beautiful. There was more than a little bit of old-world charm out of it.

Unfortunately when we got inside things went down hill. It was most certainly a gastropub (admittedly more pub than gastro) with an extensive wine list, cocktail menu, cool music and bar staff that were just a little too trendy. In the end, the beer wasn't bad and the prices weren't dreadful but the atmosphere wasn't exactly convivial for those wanting a quiet drink. There was always a constant, gentle pressure to order food (lunchtime menus not bad, main courses a bit on the hefty side) and the background noise was just a bit too high for easy conversation. What really sealed it was the unofficial dress code of slacks, cashmere jumper, open-necked shirt and expensive watch - we rolled out of the house in scruffy post dog-walking kit so felt distinctly under-dressed. Oh and it was very kid friendly and dog unfriendly. Poor form!

Overall then, it was a bit of a disappointment. I had been looking forward to visiting this place for a while and was hoping for a quiet pub and a good pint. In the end I got a noisy pub and a good pint. I suppose it serves me right for building things up in my mind and going from thirty year old sources. Ah well, we live we learn. It was still a nice drive and we saw a couple of other potentials on the route.

JR

An Age Old Question

If not now'; when? Apropos nothing in particular I have been pondering what sort of era I would like to live in if somebody presented me with the keys to a time capsule (and a fairly comprehensive instruction manual to ignore).

Two or three naturally suggest themselves to me. First off (and assuming money was no object) I rather like the idea of being an inter-war dandy. A Bulldog Drummond type with a hearty sense of adventure and a heartier bank balance. Cocktails at every given opportunity naturally and a suitably powerful sports car to mess up the gravel on country estates, make ladies swoon and draw disapproving glances from older members of society. Hmmmm actually this is sounding more Bertie Wooster than Bulldog Drummond but otherwise it sounds appealing. A gentleman of leisure occupied with novels, eating and general hi jinx. And if one happened to fancy a job, well the sole qualification was being a jolly good chap. It would be an  opportunity to release my inner fop with a hat at a jaunty angle and a just-the-right-side-of-garish suit. Not to mention some outrageous accessories... a snuff box perhaps?

Given my love of Bond, it's probably no huge to surprise that the post war years feature on the list but naturally, on the condition that I would be of sufficient means to conduct a similar lifestyle; fast cars, good food, interesting assignments and increasingly advancing and exiting technology to play with. Hopefully an international super-villain to be brought down a peg or two but who will still behave like a gentleman.

The theme here is probably life that is recognisable today (although not necessarily vice versa). Clothing is similar, cars are increasing in popularity and technology is at a point where it is useful rather than frivolous. It is therefore probably no great surprise to hear that I rather like life in the present day (albeit I can think of several improvements).

There is one other era that appeals however. That would be the early '90s. Pre-1997. Putting aside the silly haircuts, boxy suits and ties that look like hangover vomit (oh and dubious pop music but that's hardly got better). This particular choice is based not on private income, etc but on the fact that there was a world of possibility that was just a wee bit more accessible than it is today: houses were still expensive but not quite as astronomical as they now are (and mortgages were still possible to come by), fuel and booze weren't taxed at obscene levels meaning they were still affordable, graduate jobs were widely available and personal choice/common sense were still valued rather than frowned upon.

Right, probably time I took off my rose-tinted specs and put on my reading glasses. 

If anyone has a spare tardis, do give me a shout (even if it's just to have a chat with end of Uni me).

JR

The Month to Come

It's October already. That's come as more than  a bit of a surprise. Where has the year gone? More pertinently, why the hell have the shops got their Christmas stuff up already? Seriously. October!? Bah humbug.

But before I turn into J EbineezeR (see what I did there?) let's switch back to the positive. This month is shaping up to be quite a month. First off, this weekend I'm going up to Scotland (well this weekend and for quite a bit of next week). It is nicely coinciding with my mother's October holidays so, since I'm STILL not working I thought I might as well spend a few days up there. Not only will it be a nice change from staring at the walls here, it will allow me to spend some quality time in Scotland which, sadly, is something I don't often get to do. It is usually limited to rushed weekend trips.

As well as seeing parents and having some pre-emptive birthday celebrations for my mother (she has her birthday later in the month... note to self; send card) one of the main reasons for going up to Scotland this weekend is the ten year reunion of the people I was in Africa with. It is slightly scary to think that this was ten years ago. Since then a third to half of us are married/engaged, most have gone through Uni. (at least once) and have embarked on proper careers. This adventure was undertaken in our final year of school and it's slightly scary to think how much we have changed since then. Despite that, I am confident we will pick up like we saw each other yesterday. Friendships will be renewed and invigorated and hopefully it will provide stimulus to stay in touch for another ten years. It's still slightly scary to think that it happened all that time ago.

Also this month is my second anniversary with my girlfriend. Neither of us can quite remember/decide/agree on when we got together so we decided to set the date at Halloween: cue all sorts of jokes - go on, I've made them all already. Plans for celebration are still somewhat embryonic but I'm sure we'll think of something.

Finally there's an event which I've been waiting for for at least two years. Something that has loomed large in my consciousness and calender for a long time. The hype has been building for months now, aided by the fact that there's a significant anniversary of it's basic concept. Syfall, the new James Bond film, is being released at the end of the month on the 50th anniversary of the Bond film franchise. Bliss. I can't wait. So far what I've seen looks promising (although that wouldn't be hard after Quantum of Solace) now the proof of the pudding will be in the eating. Bring it on.

So that's what's in store for me for the next few weeks. Happy October.

JR