Hah, Title lyrics by Syd Barrett of the original Floyd.
Brilliant don't you think? The next line is something like .....
"its got a basket, a bell and rings and things to make it look good, I'd give it to you if I could but I borrowed it. "
Utterly deluded acid induced lunacy of course, as was most of his stuff but endearing in its own spaced out way, but also from my perspective a very creatively torturous , not to say tenuous route into todays post. So whilst I move the writing background track onto the truly magnificent "Set The Controls for the Heart of The Sun" lets move on.
I'm a simple bloke really. Not simple in the head (although some may wish to argue the case that I am, or at least act that way) but simple in taste. I mean I went to Nice the other week and one night, courtesy of a supplier, we ate in The Negresco Hotel, a sort of Nice equivalent to The Ritz complete with a Concierge dressed in a purple top hat with a red feather protuding , matching this purple frock coat, tights and black patent leather buckled shoes. Its the sort of place that when someone like me walks in the swing doors there is usually a couple of heavies holding me under the armpits pushing straight back through it. The Art work on display is truly magnificent and brilliantly avant garde and the food is very nice but fucking miniature in size, and consequently is pathetically unfulfilling and massively overpriced. The whole place drips in money - the type most of us will never have freely available to squander in such ostentacious surroundings. Not my kind of place - give me the glorious market place of Cours Saleya any day, with its rumbustious array of restaurants, cafe's and bars. Even if I was a multi-millionaire this would win over the posh and snotty faux airs and graces type establishment every time.
More proof of my simplicity comes from my hobbies, a bit of golf, a bit of fishing (now lapsed far too long), a bit of writing on this blog and thats about it, unless you include serial loafing as a hobby. Exercise used to feature a bit when I was younger but really I wasn't into any Cardio-Vascular stuff, barring football, and then progressed onto simple weight training because....well it was simple and uncomplicated, as were many of its exponents I got to know at the gym.
A few years ago we visited a Center Parcs in Longleat and my mates son took his push bike. Now anyone who's been to this particular site will know that its built in a very hilly area and previous to its conversion must have been a haven for mountain goats or hill sheep. So I did what any self respecting faux-uncle would do and I nicked this bike. To my amazement I loved it! I hadn't ridden a bike since I'd been 16 because mopeds and cars took over (particularly handy for getting home from the pub when I was too pissed to walk) . I nicked the thing at every opportunity because frankly it was easier than walking "up hill and down dale" constantly, especially as Baby was exactly that and liked to be carried by her Daddy wherever possible. It was so advanced from my day, a mountain bike with 24 Derailleur gears made by Shimano, with lovely big knobbly tyres for "off roading" (gripped...sorted). I immediately ordered GMD to buy me one on our return. We paid around £300 for it and yes...you've guessed it ....after an initial burst of activity it sat in the shed for over 2 years. Then we moved around the corner to a bigger house, nicknamed Graceland by BigSykes, but really just a modest 4 bed detached Acacia Avenue type house. Another burst came about but didn't last. Then last year when baby decided she rather liked cycling and suddenly she wanted me to escort her out and build her skills and confidence I got the cycling bug again. Winter came and the incentive was again lost, but now I've started again and in the last 3 weeks I've regularly been buggering off for between 1 and 2 hours discovering all of the local hidden roads, paths and bridlepaths. And a real eye opener its been as well. Tonight I was joined by BigSykes and we cycled through country lanes and ended up at the peak of Broadhalfpenny Down (see where I live...what fabulously named piece of countryside) next to my beloved local pub. No, we didn't have a pint but we took in the views, got chased by a dog, said hello to horse riders we didn't know, barracked some cows, nearly ran a rabbit over, gave the finger to pig ignorant motorists, shared a laugh with a tractor driver (normally the bane of my life), cycled up hills to kill the legs and down hills to break the skull should you come off. It was bloody marvellous. 2 weeks ago we went across country to the peak of the local country park from where you can see across to the Isle of Wight, and down into Portsmouth Harbour. Breathtaking in more ways than one!
I came back tonight feeling exhiliarated, fresh and most importantly alive. As drugs go, it might not be the wildest but at the moment it feels like a panacea to all my recent blues. Long may it continue and maybe I'll take a camera next time to share some of the views across my part of the country.
Later, GrocerJack
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