I really would. But the Ford UK web site doesn’t work on a Macintosh. At least it doesn’t work in Netscape, Mozilla, Safari or Explorer (all latest versions) on two different Macs, both running OS X. What I get is a sort of stub of Flash down near the bottom of the screen and that’s it. Perhaps I should buy a Peugeot. Or a Renault. Or a Toyota or a Volkswagen. Anything really. Just not a Ford.
Tag: Life
You’ll have to wait until the interval…
I’m afraid I’m bringing this concert to your attention about 15 months late. Luckily the ‘performance’ isn’t due to finish for another 637 years so you have time to get an ice cream. The extraordinary John Cage (who used to have his own special side-bar feature here at Bowblog, back before blogger ate my template) scored his piece ‘As Slow as Possible’ to last about twenty minutes played on a solo piano but the literal-minded Germans plan to play approximately one chord per year on the Halberstadt town organ until 2640 thus neatly untethering music from human time entirely and sending the mind reeling. The performance stretches an ephemeral human enterprise across many generations and tests the endurance of every institution associated with it. I love this kind of really long-term thinking.
A gruffalo? What’s a gruffalo?
If you’re in charge of small children (3 and up) and you can still get tickets, I think you should take them to see Tall Stories Theatre Company’s deliriously entertaining The Gruffalo, a touring stage adaptation of one of our favourite picture books. You’ll laugh and shout and, if you know the words, you’ll join in.
Oh no it isn’t!
Happy Christmas From Steve Bowbrick!
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Have a great new year, stay in touch and do let me know what you’re up to.
Joe Strummer
I’m certain we’ll see better obituaries for Joe Strummer from some of the great writers of that period (many of whom are presumably now drowning their sorrows) but, in the meantime, here’s one from the NME whose crass content management system just can’t help offering ‘Joe Strummer ringtones’ under the headline.
Intoxicated
I make no apology for the fact that this weblog has taken a domestic turn lately. It’s Xmas. The pleasure of watching the faces of our three and four-and-a-half year-olds watching Cinderella this afternoon was so intoxicating – I wish this dumb camphone would work in low light. I could have shown you! You’ll have to make do with the ugly sisters (click the little picture for a bigger one – the limitations of the Ericsson sometimes make for quite lovely images).
Tily in the gloom
The questionable low-light capabilities of this Ericsson cam-phone (have you wondered why the TV ads all seem to be set in the Sahara or Southern California in high summer?) and the sepulchral gloom of Blacks in Dean Street produce interesting results. Here’s Stuart Tily, another.com‘s new capo, looking like a Rembrandt merchant (you might need to adjust the brightness to see him at all).
King of the fishes
Olly, our four year-old, is on his way home dressed as a fish after his impeccably multi-cultural, non-denominational Xmas concert yesterday.
Nocturnal logic
Four O’Clock this morning. Olly, our 4 year-old, wakes for a half hour tantrum. Nothing will quieten him, nothing make him happy. Everything is wrong. Nothing can make it right. If mummy tries to help he wants daddy and vice versa. He wants to be in our bed until we agree to let him and then he wants to be in his own… until I try to take him there. He wants a drink until I try to go and get it. He yells ‘go away daddy’, heartbreakingly, until I go away, then he wants me back. The whole thing is a lesson in the implacable illogic of a small child. I suppose this is pre-rational behaviour – primitive, unarguable, terrifying. Discussion is pointless, reason redundant. Right now, the least helpful question in the world is ‘what’s wrong?’ but it’s all you can ask.
In the end, it passes, like it always does, and he’s sleeping again. In the silence I wonder how on earth human beings ever jump the giant gap from scary, tearful there to happy, settled here. Or if we ever really leave it behind.
Grocery heroes
The people at Ocado seem to have got it about right. With the help of a substantial investment from Waitrose, they’ve built a home delivery service that doesn’t require you to know exactly how to spell ‘brocolli’, that delivers for nothing if you spend over £75, that allows you to book slots in one hour increments and that delivers at 10 p.m. if you forget about Olly’s football practice and can’t be in when you said you would… If grocery delivery is going to work it’ll probably be these guys.
