You may notice that I've added a ShareThis feature/icon to each post. It clearly isn't sitting comfortably within the skin at the moment. I can only attribute this to my less than stellar HTML/CSS skills. I will get round to sorting it out over the next day or two, but in the meantime the feature does work, even if it does need a little attention.

OK, as you were...

I suspect that this should have occurred to me before but, as ever, the more obvious things aren't necessarily the first one you think of. This isn't likely to be a comprehensive set of questions, and my answers may not be complete (or even wholly accurate in some cases), but they do represent my own experience and the 'state of play' as I currently understand it. If there's something you wish to know, feel free to shout up and I'll see what I can do to provide you with an answer.

Q: Can I buy the same sort of food in KSA as I can at home?

A: It depends on where home is for you really. If you're into witchetty grubs, then it could be tough. If however you like a normal range of Western, Indian, Thai, Chinese, fast food, Arabic, Lebanese comestibles, then sure it's available. Supermarket-wise, you can find Geant, Carrefore, Tamimi's (part of Safeway group I think), Hyper Panda and a number of other outlets. The only things you can't buy will be covered off in other questions later.

Q: Where can I get a bacon sandwich from?

A: Bahrain is the nearest point to Saudi Arabia that you can legally find pork products, though they are somewhat more expensive than you may be used to. They are proscribed in KSA and anyone found with pork products in their possession inside the borders will have them confiscated and will probably have their passport marked as a transgressor - this will inevitably see the authorities taking an up close close and personal interest in you every time you cross the border.

Q: Can I get on-line deliveries shipped to KSA (Kingdom of Saudi Arabia)?

A: Yes you can, but be aware that all delivery of mail is done to PO boxes, rather than a street address. This does sometimes present a problem for some on-line stores, but can generally be got around putting the nearest major road in the address before the PO Box number. For the record, I have had deliveries from Amazon (UK), Amazon (US), Warmoth, Stewart-Macdonald, The Glitter Pot and a whole bunch of others I can't remember right now.

Q: What's the climate like in KSA?

A: The climate in Saudi varies massively depending on where you end up being based. The central area where I am can range from -8C to 54C, though these are the absolute extremes of what I've experienced. The central region is also very dry with humidity running as low as 1-2%. We do though see rain, sometimes torrential, around the months of March/April and November. On the East and West coasts, the temperature extremes are considerably lower but the downside is that the humidity can approach close to 100% during the summer months - this is not very comfortable. In the Northern areas, you also get snow at times during the winter, not enough for a ski run, but it's snow all the same and it has the same perils when combined with a road system. Almost all buildings in KSA have some form of A/C system though, albeit in older buildings these may well be crude in operation - not to worry though, as most buildings are of relatively new construction.

Q: Is it true that women cannot drive in Saudi Arabia

A: Yes it is true, and all evidence I've seen over my 10 years suggests that the men haven't got a handle on it either. The driving standards out here are distinctly variable and take some getting used to. Your first drive out here may well be accompanied by significant levels of adrenalin induced PANIC! You get used to it though and I barely notice it now (well, most days).

Q: What is there to do in Saudi Arabia?

A: Anyone used to the range of activities available to someone living a Western lifestyle will inevitably find that there are many things that just don't exist in Saudi Arabia. For example you will not find cinemas, theatres, public houses, night clubs, sports centres and many other things that invite mixed gender activity (especially that mixed gender activity). You can though find every type of restaurant, coffee shops and shopping centres (malls) on every other street corner. If you end up living on a Western compound though, you may well find that the larger ones will have a facility that can be used for theatre or cinema use, they may well have some form of gymnasium and swimming pool(s). You can of course get out into the desert - it's never far away - but be warned, the closer you are to a town/city, the more likely it is to be covered in garbage and quad-bike tracks.

More to be added on request...

View Large On Black

Of necessity, this post needs to be short, as despite the lateness of the hour, I need to go and exercise - a circuit of compound walking should do.

About 10 days ago, I went off for my annual company medical - 'they' feel it's important, and I wouldn't want to disagree with 'them'. Inevitably, the blood tests showed that all was not as rosy in the garden as I would have liked to believe, but they would send it off to the lab and get a 2nd opinion. I suppose it was only fair to get the full treatment as I had 'paid' for it with a needle in either arm.

A couple of days ago I was invited in for 'a chat'. This morning I headed in there to see what was occurring. It would seem that they have confirmed that my blood sugar levels are somewhat out of kilter and rather up on where they should be. I had a similar conversation about 3 years back and a oral glucose tolerance test confirmed that I was in the pre-diabetic range. A series of dietary changes later and on subsequent medicals it would seem that all was under control. Not so this time though.

This time it turns out that my readings are above where 'they' want them and I'm due another OGTT to confirm the doctor's expectation that this will now confirm that I have moved on a stage and will be considered a diabetic. This is not the greatest news I could have had today, or any other day for that matter. This is very early stage stuff and I should not expect to notice any symptoms yet, nor do I need to start on tablets of any form - just more dietary care and some exercise (see above).

With that, I'll go and put my training shoes on and head off out - delightful stuff...

Listen and View Large On Black

Were you a regular follower of this small but perfectly formed corner of BlogEstate, you may have had cause to notice that there has been a little more going on of late, and you may come to wonder whether there is any purpose behind it. Well you would be right to wonder, for purpose there is, not that it is a great purpose, or at least not on the scale of say a climate change treaty, or whatever they write around such things. No, quite simply it has been an attempt to see if I could post something every day for a full month, that month being November 2009, the month that's drawing very rapidly towards a close. I did say it wasn't a great purpose didn't I?

Looking back over the month, I can see that I did rather better than one a day, the photo archive mining has been of great help as I've gone along the way. Total posts so far, excluding this one, has reached 49, though I think that includes a few that have not seen light of day for a variety of reasons. In that time, I've also made some changes to the blog skin and this has, to my eyes, cleared out a fair bit of clutter and made the whole thing look a lot cleaner - still not too sure about the overall colour scheme, but it does in many ways reflect the place I'm sitting in.

The other thing I've been looking at closely along the way is the visitor stats. The way they were being captured at the start of the month means that I cannot see back to Day 1 now, but I can at least see that number of visitors have increased as a general trend - a testament to the concept that 'Content is King', or 'Build it and they will come' whichever is your preference. It is though with some irritation, that I can see that not only the genuine visitors have been dropping by, but also the spambots. These I can happily lose even though they contribute to overall visitor numbers. It is a little galling to see that over 23% of the visitor figures are made up of the little buggers. At best they just mask the real activity here and at worst they are consuming bandwidth I'm paying for with no good purpose.

One of the other things that I've done over the month is to spend a little more time reading the blogs of others and commenting on the same. I've read some interesting stuff along the way, not least ways, finding someone else who has made reference to that fine measurement device, the Bristol Stool Scale over here at FormerlyFun's emporium. The other thing I've noticed is how often certain blogs can be found cross-linking to each other and then commenting on happenings as they are reported. After a while you do begin to become convinced that the idea of a virtual village and neighbours I've commented on previously, perhaps has more substance to it than I thought. Not only that, the 'community' doesn't necessarily remain virtual and actual physical (non-biblical (that I know of)) interaction is taking place out there. Quite why this should come as a surprise, to someone who has been involved in something like half a dozen forum related meet-ups, I'm not quite sure. Seems people really do like meeting new people with a common interest.

So it's been an interesting month, even if not quite complete. I'm now wondering whether I can keep this going for more than a month. Would that be good, or would you prefer me to STFU now and leave the airwaves alone? What if I were to attempt a Blog365? What if I had to include a photo a day alongside it all? What if I wake up tomorrow and think "What the hell did I just write?". Oh, and you at the back there, stop trying to sneak out, I haven't finished yet...

Listen and View Large On Black

Sitting at breakfast this morning, looking over the Bahrain museum and the road junction immediately in front of it, it finally felt that relaxation had come to us. The massage yesterday afternoon and a good night's sleep were no doubt contributory factors in the equation. Not that this mattered much, we had to check out and head back in this direction - yes, we're back in Riyadh, a place full of unhappy people according to last night's taxi driver. He had worked there for 5 years a while back doing something finance related. Odd then that he preferred his life back in Bahrain as a taxi driver rather than have the money Riyadh probably gave him. I could empathise with him.

At the check out desk were a pile of leaflets advertising Christmas at the Diplomat. Christmas lunch, the reindeer choir singing your favourite carols and The Boxtones on live - sounds ideal. The older I get, the less inclined I'm becoming to want to be back in the UK. If it weren't for the expectation heaped on you, probably unknowingly, by family, I'm fairly certain both AM and I would much rather head off somewhere warm to relax. The UK is too cold, too wet, too dark and too damned depressing to want to spend time there during the winter. Not only that, but it seems a never ending round of driving from place to place - time dutifully killed behind the wheel of a car. Not that our own house would be much better. Since buying it seven years back, we've barely spent any time in it. As tidy as it is, it's never been given the opportunity to become a home for either of us.

More than once this weekend, we've toyed with the notion of staying just that extra day, but that's a slippery slope that could lead to a very expensive hotel bill to be repented at pleasure. So we'll content ourselves with a couple of nights and wait until the next time. Talking to the receptionist as we departed, it would seem that we will be expected...

It's quiet here in Bahrain at the moment. AM is asleep on the bed - the consequence of an Imigran tablet a little earlier today. The light has subsided outside and what traffic there is on the corniche has slowed to a crawl. Not exactly fertile material to blog about. What then to offer you today?

How about if I give you some music to go take a listen to. I'll do five albums that I think are worth a place in anyone's collection:

1. Pearl Jam - Ten: As debut albums go, this one is hard to follow. I'd go as far as to say this was their finest hour and something they've yet to match. For your consideration, I give you "Jeremy", a fine song regardless of the rather dark subject matter.
2. Rush - Signals: Rush are a band whose early material I found a bit of a tough listen, primarily due to Geddy Lee's vocal style. It wasn't until I shared a room with a Rush fanatic, when in the RAF and I heard "Exit... Stage Left" that I caught onto their undoubtable musicianship, from where on in all else was history. I had the pleasure of seeing them live 3 times on their 30th Anniversary tour and would love the opportunity to see them again, should it arise. The song presented here tells of the pain of loss through the ageing process. It's not something they've ever performed live due to the need for Ben Mink's violin part - "Losing It".
3. A Perfect Circle - Mer De Noms: When Maynard James Keenan decided to step outside the confines of Tool, he couldn't have done so in better company than with Billy Howerdel. The result was A Perfect Circle. APC are far from your standard rock act and should be required listening on anyone's' play list. Here is a track called "Breña". Enjoy!
4. Smashing Pumpkins - Machina/The Machines of God: Smashing Pumpkins had their coming of age with Siamese Dream and a hard to beat high point with Mellon Collie & the Infinite Sadness, but here I've gone for one of their less well known albums with Machina, a piece of work that I suspect is badly underrated. This is my favourite track from it "Stand Inside Your Love", which always reminds me of AM.
5. Biffy Clyro* - Puzzle: I know next to nothing about Biffy Clyro, except that they're from Ayeshire (there are worse places). Here I've picked "Folding Stars" for you to listen to, a truly beautiful love song that can easily bring a tear to the eye. Not sure who Eleanor is, but it sounds like she's worth writing songs about.

Perhaps nothing there that's too far from the mainstream, stuff you may well have heard of in all likelihood, but did you buy them (does anyone still do that? You should)? Give the links above a try and see what you think.

Postscript: Just been to the excellent Margarita Mexican at The Gulf hotel. It's a new undertaking for them, but on the strength of this evenings meal, they should be kept busy for some time to come. If you get there, the chocolate pudding is a must - chilli infused chocolate mousse, with a raspberry coulis and a little whipped cream to top it off; absolutely to die for.

* Talking over the subject of todays' post in the restaurant, AM enquired as to who "Billy Clitoris" was - kind of hard to explain that one really. You had to be there...

We are now in Bahrain, have been since 12:00 or so to be more accurate. Smooth passage across highway and causeway, can't complain really.

The day has been spent, as ever, browsing round the bookshop in Seef Mall, buying books, buying magazines, drinking coffee at Caribou, buying undies and skirts (latter not for me I should add). Heavy stuff, I think you'll agree. Aside from the traffic along the corniche, the day has been one of relaxation and idleness personified. The lounge has served us with a bevy of fines wines for an hour or two, after which it was on to the Fiddler's.

I have mentioned The Boxtones a couple of times (1, 2 & 3) now and they were on again tonight. Just for a change I was more than happy to see the band.

It's an odd thing you know, the difference between how the Boxtones come across on stage, and how we were beginning to look. Gary & co look absolutely effortless, whilst we were struggling to put single songs together in any sort of coherent manner. It really is a joy to see a band put heart and soul into something and all the while make it look effortless, like they've barely fallen out of bed and thought "I know, that's what we'll do today - for a bit of a crack and maybe some beer money", but it's what they seem to do. They've been out here, doing sets most nights, and still look fresh as a daisy and not a care in the world. Not too sure how it's done to be honest.

Tonight's set included, a Beatles medley, Jason Mraz (again), Lynryd Skynrd's "Sweet Home Alabama", Green Day's 'Basket Case', GNR's "Sweet Child of Mine", a Foo Fighters track the name of which escapes me right now, and others. What slightly threw me though was seeing them with an audience demanding an encore, something they duly obliged with a Rage Against the Machine track from their first album. Now it wasn't a piece of music I knew, but the sheer gusto that it was performed with and the reaction of their audience had me laughing, not from amusement, but with out and out enjoyment. To see both band and audience enjoying themselves so much was wonderful.

Talking with Gary afterwards, I gather they have now has their contract extended until next August they like them so much. I'm quite delighted at this news and hope to see them on more than one occasion between now and then. The only downside of this is that they are not allowed to have guests on the stage, much to my chagrin. You will not be seeing me on stage at the Diplomat any time soon - I will get my day though.

Listen

Well the week for me is over. It seems early I know but I've taken tomorrow off so AM and I can get over to Bahrain early and not get quite so caught up in the queues on the Causeway. As vital to the sanity of the average expat as Bahrain is, getting over the Causeway and off 'dry' land is a profound PITA. For most of the year they seem to have been rebuilding and remodelling the island in the middle where all the immigration and customs points are. To be fair it desperately needs the work, but it isn't half getting in the way of the free flow of passage between the two countries. Catching the Causeway at the wrong time (any time after 15:30 on a Wednesday) means you are going to be stuck there for a long time. It's been known to take 4 or more hours to get across, which in the height of summer is no fun at all. The trick is to keep pushing towards the right, where the road widens out and hopefully you get just a small jump on those to the left. There are no rules here, every man for themselves and fortune favours the brave, more so the stupid.

Given that most of our indigenous colleagues are now on their Hadj/Eid break, the office has gone into something of a funk. Dealing with local vendors is almost impossible and now the BST has ended, our first 4 hours of the day are unsullied by anything as remotely taxing as dealing with the UK. Our working week with the UK is now down to a 15 hour window - something of a limit in trying to move matters forward that end. The whole effort of going into the office to do anything seems slightly pointless, we get done what we need to though. Is it any wonder I'm looking forward to tomorrows' road trip and some time away. Maybe I'll even get the camera out and get me away from pillaging the archives so heavily.

Till next time then, when I'll be coming at you from the wrong side a a few glasses of vino rosso... Cheers!

Given that I spent most of the evening pre-occupied with fixing up the CSS code for the site, time has become somewhat limited for content creation round here. I thought therefore, to tell you a little about that peculiarly British concern, the weather. Not though the British weather, no none of that. Instead to give you a feel of what it's like out here at this time of the year.

For most people, there is perhaps the belief that the Middle East is always sunshine, with never a cloud in the sky. Hopefully by now, I should have disabused most of you of the 'clear blue sky' thing, it's just not happening for the most part. Aside from a period of time around March/April and some time around November, rain is pretty much absent - the lack of which is what's used to define a desert, something I can see all around me, or at least outside our compound cocoon. Rains generally coincide with the change of seasons; winter/spring into summer, summer/autumn into winter. This then is pretty much where we come in now.

Everyone knows that Saudi Arabia is hot - exceedingly so at times; ever seen 55C on your garden thermometer? Mmmm... not so many hands up for that question. What is perhaps less well known is how cold it can be during the winters. OK, so it's not Arctic winter Canada cold, but it still comes as a bit of a shock to the system when it arrives. After a period living out in this region, the blood tends to thin out a fair bit, meaning you feel it that much more keenly. There also the more or less total absence of humidity, it's often below 10% and can drop to 1-2%, certainly in the central region where Riyadh is, away from any body of water - the Gulf is some 300 miles distant from here. Humidity has the effect of holding the heat in against the skin. So thin blood, no humidity and a whopping 40C drop on the summer peaks, and you can see why it feels rather more chilly than of late.

I can understand why the very occasional visitor is more than a tad baffled at what we might be complaining about, but it's all relative against what you're used to. Already, many have ditched the a/c for the winter (or at least the chiller part), woolly jumpers are now the norm in the evening, talk around the office is of putting the BIG quilt on the bed. The temperature isn't such that the heating has gone on yet, but give it another month perhaps, not that this really does much to be fair. Come January or February, we can expect it to drop below 0C overnight on a regular basis. Three years back we had a sustained period where the overnight temperature dropped to -8C; most people living here just aren't geared up for that, with the plant life around the compound even less so, as it killed off literally hundreds of the newly planted flame trees around the compound. That was apparently the coldest Riyadh winter for over 20 years though and it was the first time I'd ever seen frozen puddles on the ground in 10 years - I'd seen a frost on the grass a few times, but ice was a new one.

So where are we at the moment then? Well todays' maximum was forecast for 23C, though it never made it above 20C. It's now around 17C, with the expectations that the overnight low will be in the region of 15C. Most of the day has been cloudy and we are expecting rain on Friday, though I shouldn't think it would be too heavy - the spring rain is generally much heavier and prolonged. It's a little unfortunate that I'll be on my way back from Bahrain on Friday, where it's also forecast for inclement weather. The prospect of a trip back along a rain soaked road that hasn't seen a drop in over 6 months, is not overly enticing, as the aggregation of rubber and diesel will likely turn the surface into a greasy slick reminiscent of a well lubricated eel. No fun at all and the RTA rate goes through the roof - a good time to park up and stay the hell out of it.

Still, we'll get ourselves (AM & I) over there and see what's what. At least Bahrain will have a sensible level of humidity in the atmosphere, so it should feel warmer even if technically it's little different from here. I'll let you know...

I started something of a fashion, but wasn't quite panning out right - blogger's block perhaps. Maybe another shot at it with a clearer head on a different day. Till then it's is consigned to the pile that never quite made it out of the closet.

There's very little to report to you today. Stoke won, though they barely deserved a point the way they played. The sharper eyed amongst you may notice something a little different about the blog this evening, see if you can spot it if you are of a mind. I got another day older, but then again, so did you.

Night all...

Listen & View Large On Black

There's a delightful folksiness about the small ads you can find adorning the noticeboards of your local convenience store; the missing pet section, that old sofa that would look just right in your spare room if only it were recovered (with BBQ fuel and ignited), the part worn tyres, if you're lucky a battered Sony PS2 with a bunch of games that were tired 5 years back, never mind in the face of the latest from EA. It's all very cosy, all that old tat out there to be had for a song. You also get these sort of ads, the ones where, for the sake of a little experience, you can be out there with the in crowd, strutting your funky stuff.

Guess I won't be getting that phone call then...

If I have something on my mind then I should write of it

If I write of it then perhaps I have something to say

If I have something to say then I think that someone should listen

If someone were to listen then just maybe they would hear me

If they were to hear me it is well that they would know me

Lets get the hard part out of the way first - yes, I'm 48 years old tomorrow and there's nothing I can do about it...

Face it, given a choice there are not that many of us who would willingly get older if it wasn't actually required by the laws of nature. Who wants to suffer indignity of slowly but surely disintegrating and watching as younger folk do things that you once thought easy, when you know that to try it once more would almost certainly end with a trip to casualty or at the very least a chiropractor. Not too much to be done on that score though, so I'll pretend it isn't happening until something tears.

Looking back on the life I've had to date, I find myself wondering whether it was as much of a life as it could have been. Did I try hard enough along the way, were there mistakes I could have avoided, were there opportunities missed; 20/20 hindsight would probably point out a few choice moments where in true Sliding Doors fashion an alternative reality could have had its chance.

In many senses, my life has been relatively easy and free from some of the trials other people are faced with. Born in the UK, no broken home to escape from, well educated but not at a university, never unemployed, happily married and competent, if not outstandingly so, at most things I choose to take an interest in. A steady if unremarkable life, riding over the waves if not at their very crest; head above water. Were you not to know me, it's unlikely you would notice me in the street or any other place for that matter.

None of the above meant to suggest that some how my life has been a breeze, there is much too much evidence to suggest otherwise. No one can go through the pain of divorce or the terror of being forced to confront your own impending mortality to think otherwise. The human animal is remarkably resilient though and it's amazing how soon such challenges are, if not forgotten, then at least parked far enough back in the memory that you can reflect on them in a semi-detached manner. I clearly can and will survive for a while longer yet.

Or at least until I stop...

I'm sure I can't be the only one who has written about this one over the course of the last 24 hours, certainly not if you're a sports journalist. Can I be the only one who is mightily disappointed in the actions of Thierry Henry? I doubt it very much.

Last night's game between France and the Republic of Ireland is something I can only view as a travesty of fair play in sport. I want to see my own team (Stoke City) win as much as the next red & white bedecked fan, but I really detest seeing it done in a win at all costs fashion as happened last night. To Thierry Henry it would seem that the end justifies the means, fair play, dignity and respect for the opposition all gone out of the window, not only in his only partly instinctive reaction at the time, but in his comments afterwards, when surely, he would have had the opportunity to reflect on what he knew he had done. There was a time not so long back when having this particular Frenchman's name on a Stoke City team sheet would have been a dream come true, but no longer. His reputation as a sportsman is no longer intact, his name tarnished forever as a consequence of one game. "Sir, you are a cheat and a disgrace to your profession", have no doubt of it.

FIFA will inevitably find a way of glossing over this and carrying on as if nothing had happened. How can they possibly continue to prolong their stance that video replays have no place in the game of football? By what right do they continue to say that the referee's decision on the pitch is final when it's plain to see for millions of TV viewers and a significant proportion of the crowd, that the referee was either wrong, or unsighted at the crucial moment? It would take no longer to consult a video replay than it would to deal with a bunch of angry and emotional players who know they've been conned by their opposition. It works in rugby, it works in tennis, it works in the NFL, why oh why can't it work in the worlds most popular sport? Can they truly be said to be answering that? After last night, the jury can no longer be said to be out...

gob⋅ble⋅de⋅geek [gob-uhl-dee-geek]

–noun
language characterised by highly technical concepts and jargon, usually hard to understand by lay business persons: "The last account review was nothing but gobbledegeek to me" said the commercial man.

Also, gob⋅ble⋅dy⋅geek.

Origin:
2009; confluence of IT and commercial operatives

Synonyms:
geekspeak, speaking in tongues, talkin' bollocks

Some of my images recently have probably been just slightly outside the norm of what I've been doing for the last thirty-ish years. When I started into the realms of photography, I was heavily influenced by the likes of Ansel Adams - I still like his stuff very much now, that hasn't changed. Over recent months though, I've started to view that type of huge DoF*, ultra sharp style as being rather more documentary than I currently feel comfortable with.

As I browse around flickr from time to time and elsewhere, I find myself drawn increasingly to something rather more elusive. Call it style, call it individuality, call it art, call it none of those. Whatever it is though, I'm beginning to look for something that I can best describe as wanting to capture the sense of time and a place, something that taps into whatever emotion was present when the shutter button was pushed. Anyone wanting to understand where this comes from and what inspired this shift, could do worse than go and look up Aeric Meridith-Goujon, be warned though, what you find may well need to come with the health warning NSFW** - proceed with caution. Whilst I've no intention of photographing the same types of subject as Aeric, the style in evidence draws me in every time. If you wish to look at something rather more office friendly, take a look at some of Joannablu's images; the link is over there --> somewhere. Now she has a real knack of turning the everyday stuff into a kind of dream world that evokes old memories.

I've also been increasingly posting material with the majority of the colour stripped out and replaced with a hint of sepia***, though I'm sure someone will tell me that's not quite what it is. This I think is more of a visual reference to some of the current aspects of my own life that I'm less than comfortable with. Inevitably, though this will change. I need to get out and take some newer material too - the archives are currently being ransacked heavily and probably much too often to make any safe claim of keeping the standards up.

I may come back to this sometime soon, in the meantime, I hope you enjoy the show...

* Depth of Field
** Not Safe For Work
*** Convert to B&W via method of choice, select colorize from Hue/Saturation, set Hue to 45 & Saturation at 8-10, dodge & burn to taste, or maybe just adjust with the Curves tool - in my case done with PS CS4

This may be a little dark

I've decided to have a night off and leave you to your own devices for a while. I don't want you to be too downhearted though, so I've found you a couple of things to read whilst I'm kipping.

• The first is a piece from the Washington Post - "When a child dies, faith is no defence" by Jonathan Turley - if you are not appalled by this then you damn well should be.
• The second is from TechCrunch by Paul Carr "NSFW: ‘Tis Pity She’s A Success – Belle de Jour and the Impossibility of Anonymous Blogging" - been following some of the rather excitable press coverage of this one over the last 48 hours - Anonymity: The Bloggers' Conundrum

Pay attention though, I'll be asking questions later...

It's been an odd kind of a day in the Blogosphere, all kinds of unexpected pieces of news that have rippled throughout the Twitterverse. Hints, claims, denials, counter-claims, accusations, I told you so's, and records set in alignment - it's all happening out there you know. Despite the length of time I've had this blog (though you'd be hard pressed to know it, it's been here for three and a half years now), I'd not really got too much of an insight or engaged in some of the things that go on out there. I'm starting to travel outside my own little Izdihar shaped sphere these days and you begin after a very short time, realising who links to who, who is commenting on who (and vice versa). I'm late on all this and I know it, but at least it's giving me plenty to read. All I need now is my anonymity back, a gift for the salacious, a book deal and I can go full steam ahead and get myself outed properly - I've always said everyone should have an aim in life...

PS. Congratulations to Ellie and The Man on their impending move to Madrid - Duvet Fluffing Spawns Big Idea

You'd think based on one or two recent post that I have something of a dislike of the place I've chosen to work and live - I did chose, no one put a gun to my head and made me come here. It's probably true that I'm a little jaded where KSA is concerned, but you tend to come here with the view of it being a means to an end and no further. Having just clocked over my 10 year point, the chances are that most of the things I ever thought I came here for, have either been met or, by now, surpassed in many ways. With those thoughts in mind, it would be a little one sided of me if I didn't recognise and highlight some of the good things I've been able to do over the last decade:

1. I got married - this is a good thing
2. I've spent the last 10 years largely away from the UK's dreary weather - OK, so it gets a bit hot here, but this is generally a good thing
3. AM and I have not only bought a house, but currently overpay on the mortgage, more than the mortgage itself - this is a good thing (I think), though we will need something larger when we eventually go back home
4. I've bought a new car for the first time in my life (though it is now 4 years old) - jury's out on whether buying a new car is a good thing or not, I will err towards the positive though
5. We've visited Italy twice, Canada, France, Germany, Hong Kong, Qatar, Dubai a few times and Bahrain more times than I can remember - these were good things, though it does rather call into question our carbon footprint
6. I've got a collection of guitars most professional guitarists would be proud of - trust me, this is a good thing
7. I have developed and grown in my chosen career - this is a good thing, but this seems of late to have stalled somewhat
8. I don't pay tax; my salary is not much different to what I would expect in the UK - but on the whole this is a rather good thing
9. We have some savings behind us - a good thing, but given the interest rates currently, not overly productive
10. Our housing and electricity out here are provided as part of the overall package I'm on - good thing too...
11. I had a cardiac stent fitted within 24 hours of failing a stress test rather badly - you cannot imagine what a GOOD THING this is

You could read the above and think we're absolutely minted when it's set out like this, but really we don't do too much more than average Joe, possibly we can do it a little easier and we are in a far better position than those who have suffered during the current recession. I don't envy them their plight in any way. So I will keep plodding along for a while longer at a guess, but at least the next time I have a moan, you can point me back over here to see what on earth it is that I'm moaning about and tell me to STFU whinging (Pom that I am)!

...and waiting, watching the time pass. Quite why I don't know, but it's what I do. It'll do me no good, I know. I'll be a grouch in the morning, I'm a grouch most mornings. I start slow and build throughout the week. Some weeks I may be on top form as early as Monday (our week starts on a Saturday). Tomorrow I don't even have the football to look forward to after work, as there are a bunch of absolutely pointless international friendlies going on. The clock ticks past 23:35 and I study its unerring progress with some detachment, like it somehow doesn't apply to me. Life in Saudi is a constant waiting game; waiting till the the next time you can get out of the place. Unless you're a native, it's unlikely to be a place you'd say you'd emigrate to. The only way to pass the time here is to ignore it and occupy yourself, like here permanently plugged into the internet, gateway to into the real world. It feels difficult to really exist here, it sucks you dry eventually, you forget what it's like to do normal things after a while and once you're out, it takes days to work out where you are. The clock ticks by though and I wonder what sort of husk will be spat out at the end when I finally summon the reserves of courage to leave this place.

The mobile phone rings...

"Chris, I've been talking with the rest of the band all week and we don't think it's working"

Mildly stunned at the sense of what I've been told, I begin to suspect I've been the unwitting victim of a euphemism.

"We'll talk more when I get back of my holiday in 3 weeks"

I have an idea this will be a short conversation.

This does not feel good...

Not so many hours back, I said that Mr Hoffman-Gill had given me an idea for a post or two, in fact there's probably material in this area for many more. The area in question was triggered by the many music related lists he seems to go in for, but I don't intend to slavishly copy an album or gig list, as I can throw my own little slant in here.

I did my 'O' Levels back in 1978 and during the following spring (April 3rd) fell into a form of gainful occupation that quite frankly I'd have paid to do if I'd had the money. At the age of 17 I was pretty much obsessed with nothing other than music, bands, concerts and anything else related. At that point, distractions of a female persuasion were only a distant concern, though I could as the need arose put on a neat turn aboard a skateboard.

The spring's highlight in Stoke-on-Trent, on the live act front, was going to be Thin Lizzy who were scheduled to perform at Trentham Gardens. Unlike most of the other venues in the area, such as the Hanley Victoria Hall, or the distant cow shed that is Stafford Bingley Hall, Trentham Gardens was actually worth visiting during the day, as you could wander the gardens for many a mile, though at that time they were somewhat dishevelled and no where near the spectacle that it is today following its recent restoration. So that day, a couple of friends and myself arrived early at the Gardens, tickets in hand and went to see what was happening. So begins my list; the recollections of a 'humper & dumper' for bands many and various:

1. Thin Lizzy: Finding ourselves with plenty of time to kill, we naturally ended up outside the ballroom itself to see what, if anything, was happening there. Lined up outside were a couple of trucks, rear doors open and ramps running up to the cavernous interiors. Flight cases of a variety of shapes and sizes were being rolled off the back of the truck and through the open doorway of the ballroom, presumably heading for the stage. We probably stood for ten minutes or so, fascinated as we were to see real live roadies moving the kit round for a real live band, and a big one at that.

   Unbeknown to us, one of the road crew had noticed us stood there, and at a guess, rather hot in the April sun, decided to 'press-gang' us into action. "Don't just stand there lads! Give us a hand", and we were off, for the rest of the afternoon, shifting cases, lifting gear onto stage and most likely getting in the way, as we hadn't the faintest idea where anything went or what we should do with it. Out of the chaos rose the set, complete with drum risers, lights, amps, drum kits, mixers and mile after mile of cable.

   Having emptied the trucks of their cargo, there was little we could do to assist any further, so it was back to the hanging round watching the crew turn what looked a dumping ground into the recognisable makings of a live show. From somewhere, back-stage passes had appeared for us, meaning we were free to go anywhere within the venue. Down behind the stage was the food, the drink, the dressing rooms and later on, the band themselves.

   Somewhere around this time, we must have been introduced to the local promoter in town, Mike Lloyd. He ran a record shop in the centre of Hanley, though not one I frequented much. I don't recall it being a long conversation, but the end result was that if we wanted to do this again, then all we had to do was turn up at the Vic the following week at 11:00 and we'd not only get into the gig free, but we'd get paid a tenner for our trouble too. Things were looking up.

   My abiding memory though from the rest of the day was the sound check. Sat on the floor of a pretty much empty ballroom whilst Phil Lynott, Brian Downey and Scott Gorham were running through a track (can't recall which), whilst Gary Moore, who was in as a replacement for Brian Robertson, noodled away on his Les Paul playing something completely different. Whatever it was, the speed and dexterity he displayed was mind-blowing.

   The concert itself was a real treat and I seem to recall spending most of the evening on the upstairs balcony, accessible to those of us with a back stage pass only. And that, was how it all started

2. Buzzcocks: I'm pretty sure all the other bands I 'humped and dumped' for were performing at the Victoria Hall. Nothing stands out especially at this one, but I do remember Pete Sheeley, Steve Diggle and co. arriving on stage for the sound check, and also sitting behind John Maher's drum kit and getting a few tips from the drum roadie.
3. John Miles: Most people only remember John Miles for his single "Music" which got to #3 in 1976. In 1979, his popularity was perhaps of a lower order than some of the others acts of the time, he was though an exceptionally competent musician. The most striking feature of this concert was the sheer amount of equipment that his band arrived with. So much so that there wasn't space to put the support act on the stage, so starting a little later than normal, it was just the headline act that we got. Can't say that I recall feeling that we were in any way short changed

4. Scorpions: You know there's something quite appealing about German efficiency, it's great of you want trains to run on time, or the streets kept clean, but behind the scenes of what would have been Germany's biggest act at the time, it translated largely as no fun at all. Especially for those helpers provided by the venue. Lets just say that this was a day I didn't enjoy behind the scenes, throughout the day we were driven hard and with no great sympathy by the German road-crew. Even given the inevitable language barriers, they were a miserable bunch to work for. As far as the promoter was concerned, we were only really required to help unload the trucks, not to help at the end in breaking everything down, it was something I often did though, it was just part of the fun. That evening I didn't bother.

   The only notable event was trying to unload, then manhandle a huge hydraulic jack up to the stage. This was to be used under the drum riser, which at the appointed time would lift the riser, drum kit and drummer up around 8-10ft into the air. The problem was its sheer weight, literally dragging the thing off the truck and across the hall was bad enough, but I watched as something like 10 of the road crew tried to haul this thing up front edge of the stage using a bunch retaining straps, in what could only be described as a herculean effort. The crew kept the likes of myself well out if the way at this point, must have been an early form of health and safety I guess. They got it up there, but how no one lost a finger or got crushed, remains a mystery to me to this day.

5. The Damned: Nothing much about the gear moving sticks in the mind much at this one, but I do recall The Damned being exceptionally drunk on stage and the performance becoming free-form, with one member than another wandering off stage mid-song and a short while later re-joining the action. At the time, at all seemed rather fun, though in hindsight, more than a little disrespectful towards the paying public.

   The most memorable part of the day took place after the gig had finished, when for whatever reason we decided to head into the pub up the road - not something we generally did given the time it would have been by the time we usually finished. Sat in the bar as we got in there was Malcolm Owen the vocalist for The Ruts. Conversation passed over something and nothing through a slightly beery haze. but I do remember thinking what a nice guy he was; nothing about him suggested he had an ego, he just enjoyed what he was doing. It was with some sadness that I learned, a mere 12 months later, that he had died of a heroin overdose.

6. Hawkwind: Now this one was fun. Spectacularly relaxed Yank roadies, who didn't much seem to care too much about anything to be honest. They just got on with it, had a laugh and were more than happy to involve you in stuff that, in all honesty, we shouldn't have had any business getting involved in. At one point I was handed a power plug, a cable and the soldering iron from hell, along with the instruction to join the lot together. It wasn't going to happen and my man quickly realised it and handed me a tenner and got me to find the nearest music shop and bring back a roll of gaffer tape. Not a big task, but it seemed rather flash to me to be handed an entire evenings' pay and be asked to buy sticky tape with it. This was a good one and at that point I'd have been happy to have dumped the studying what I was supposed to have been doing, and just headed off out on the road with a crew.

So then, a short list, but a fun one and one I look back on with some very fond memories. Whilst I can't pin them down to any particular concert, giving the support acts a hand breaking their gear down in the interval was a buzz (no one helps support acts), as you could almost guarantee seeing some of your friends in the crowd below your feet, me with my pass and money in my pocket, them with their ticket stub and green eyes - at that age a great game of one one-upmanship.

All too soon, it came to an end. I should have been studying, but that came to an end later that year once my parents discovered that I hadn't been in college doing my 'A' Levels for months - an interesting conversation that one! Within days I had officially left school and was working on a building site as a general labourer (building trade dogsbody) and by the August of that year was signed up in the RAF as a trainee Air Communications Technician.

Now that was another story altogether...

Well I crashed and burned tonight. A working week caught up with me and the body, mind and spirit let go on the sofa in front of the telly. Never mind, I have stuff in the pipeline for sometime tomorrow - Blurred Clarity (Daniel Hoffman-Gill) has given me an idea...

It would appear I'm all out of words this evening, but as I've not posted any images for a few posts, it seemed an ideal opportunity to trawl the archives and pull out something you may not have seen - at least if you've not been looking at my flickr stuff. This one was taken in Hong Kong back in March. It's of the view we had from our hotel room and looks over the intersection next to the Happy Valley Racecourse. Enjoy!

It's an unlikely combination I grant you, but with the third of the bands' rehearsals now under my belt, these two are coming closer together. It's fair to say that the former are winning out in the track count so far as we gradually construct our set. I'll not list out the actual tracks here, so as not to spoil the surprise for any who might turn up for the first of our many-times rearranged gigs. As it's on VH1 at the moment though, I can confirm that we will not be attempting Tina Turner's 'Nutbush City Limits' - good thing too...

Despite having had guitars in my possession for the best part of 30 years, this is the first time I've ever been even remotely close to being in an actual act. The first time was absolutely terrifying, but I did just about get away with it. I did though rapidly discover that playing along with other flesh and blood musicians is not the same as playing to the original artists CD. The subtle shifts in tone and arrangement of a familiar tune are rarely there when trying to make yourself heard against the massive reverb of an empty rehearsal space, and the lack of balance between the instruments that come out of this.

I'd also not appreciated how difficult it is to pick up the language of a practice session. For some of the others, who have been doing this for perhaps 20-30 years in some form, it's second nature, whilst I must look utterly bemused by is all. I know what the words mean (mostly), but I haven't a clue how they relate to an actual track, which I don't de-construct as I'm listening to them in terms of verses, choruses, bridges and so on. An instruction telling me we're going to pick up two bars before the 2nd chorus is most likely to leave me thinking "Oh fuck! I've been found out!". The may as well drop me off in Gorky Park and ask me to find the Kremlin - no doubt I'll get there in the end, but it ain't going to be quick, or by the most direct route - don't speak the lingo you see.

All said an done though, it's beginning to come together, though I've not really settled myself into a regular structured practice routine away from the band rehearsals. Better an hour a day than 7 hours cramming over a day at the weekend. What is going to be nice though will to be get some of the guitars I have out of their pristine home in my bedroom studio and out in front of an audience, an audience that wishes to be entertained and will probably be more than forthcoming on what they think of us. I'm sure it be fun when it happens and I'm hoping that someone will capture some photographic evidence of it all. It would be nice to be thought of as someone who plays guitar and not just owns a few, after all, any old idiot with some ready cash can do that can't they.

Stepping out through the front door,
The Walker emerges into the glare of sodium street lights.
Turning right, he heads for the outer wall,
where his pre-determined and sterile route awaits.

Clad in a garb of hooded top and jogging bottoms,
he struggles to free the headphone cable
that has become caught in his iPod case
and repeatedly dislodges the in-ear speaker as he moves.

At the wall he veers left to hit the walkway there.
With measured precision, the poured concrete slabs
guide the way out into to night, temperature lowered
by the clear late autumn skies above his head.

As his pace picks up, The Walker feels his last meal
rise from his stomach, burning its way into his oesophagus,
the bitter acidic taste of chilli and tomato reminding
him of older more serious discomfort, but not tonight, not tonight

The rhythm of The Walkers' stride settle to the beat
of the iPods' output; random play serving out tunes unknown
and leaving behind those to be instantly forgotten.
Roger Sanchez sets the tone for the next 6 minutes

Please enter your password:
Good morning Mr Sanchez
You have accessed your computabank
please select the track you wish to hear now...

With electronic precision, The Walker counts his way
past the monotonous regularity of the 2 meter slabs
wall right and dark, houses left and anonymous. The slabs
blur, the numbers blur, The Walker moves ever ahead.

Remembering events of the day, a wry grimace crosses his face
Insignificant victories scored, minor humiliations endured
"We'll have you next time, you bastard" he thinks
"your days are numbered...". The pace increases a touch

Ahead, two figures appear,
ghost like beneath the toxic orange light.
The first with a familiar outline, the second unknown
Heading towards him, his co-conspirators gain detail

Convinced, as he is, of the first's identity,
he raises a hand in friendly salute of a shared task.
The first looks mildly phased by the greeting, but
returns the wave. Not who The Walker thought it was...

Not wishing to repeat the same mistake, The Walker heads
towards the second impassively. As they pass, a glint
of puzzlement crosses the second's expression at the blank
stare. The wife of a work colleague passes to one side...

Reaching the halfway point, The Walker feels the prickle
of overheated skin on his back, the evening no longer cool,
but instead temperature rising uncomfortable, heat trapped against
his torso, the hoodie now an unnecessary burden to comfort.

Heading past a street light, The Walker sees his shadow extend
in front of him, fading all the while as the next is approached
knowing as he does that a shadow unseen shrinks and deepens on the
ground behind his back. The Sweetest Perfection keeps time...

Takes me completely
Touches so sweetly
Reaches so deeply
Nothing can stop me

Clip, clip, clip raps his ankle, stooping in recognition,
The Walker stoops to re-tie a loosened lace, and once more
he feels the burn rise above his stomach, sensation unwelcome,
unwanted and uncomfortable. No stopping now the race not yet run.

Passing the field, he feels the fine mist dispensed in darkness,
smells its past life, must trust the plant did its job. The path
now fully dark, trusting to where he knows it follows, aim for the
bright spot ahead, no oncoming train this one...

Into the open and the brightness again, road crossed and safe
from its users, The Walker passes by the supermarket loading
bay. A hive of industry by day, but not now. Dead to the sleeping
world, a new dawn awaits ahead, events to unfold

Taking the extra loop, urged on at the iPod's request,
The Walker cuts right out of sight of tarmac and into
the corridor, the bushes encroaching from either side
providing a claustrophobic cover for those who desire it.

Escaping the gap, bland and unremarkable dwellings feeding
away left of him, The Walker recalls names, names of the day,
names of toil, names of weight and import, never forgotten.
But not here, not now, not at night - "That's mine"

Turning towards home, exercise drawing to a close,
The Walker eases down slower, nearly done till another
day. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not the day after, but soon
With the door in sight, a Friend of a Friend takes The Walker home...

When he plays
No-one speaks
No-one speaks
When he plays
No-one speaks

There will unfortunately be no blog post this evening, as the proprietor of the site has been much too all consumed with band practice. This has been both a bad thing and a good thing; bad in the sense that I didn't know all my parts, and good in the sense that I wasn't the only one. You may rest assured though that bogging will returning to the place known as Izdihar very shortly, possibly as soon as tomorrow, assuming that I can come up with the semblance of something to amuse and delight you all with.

In the mean time, I will finish by offering my congratulations to Petite Anglaise and family on the arrival of Jack who weighed in at 3.75 Kg, very recently (not a clue exactly when, but I'm sure she'll update us shortly).

Male: Have you finished in the bathroom?

Female Significant Other: Yes I have but Donkey has gone in there now, so you'll have to wait...

M: Oh! He's not washing his mane again is he?

FSO: Yes, and he's filing his hooves too...

M: I hope to God he's not having a shit; I'm not sure the bowl is big enough...

Disclaimer: This events portrayed in this blog post are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to persons alive or dead, or their conversations is purely coincidental

Look & Listen

View Large On Black

Link: http://www.lukesurl.com/archives/1070

Another in my exceptionally infrequent series of things from elsewhere...

To be honest this is much how it feels when trying to blog using an iPhone. It's very early days of course and the whole process is eminently feasible, but I'm not sure I'd want to do it like this all the time. I'm instantly reminded of the early days of me learning my way around a keyboard well enough to navigate with two or more fingers. To be fair, the b2evolution admin skin was never designed for this sort of abuse. Perhaps I should try to remember that it's not a matter of how well it can be done, more that it can be done at all.

It's becoming clearer to me that I need to keep my Moleskine closer to hand these days - normally it sits in my camera bag, which doubles as my air travel carry-on (you can get loads in it, but it weighs a ton). Too often, these days I find myself thinking of the perfect little word confection to tempt you with, only to find that by the time I'm anywhere near the keyboard, other distractions have torn the thought away like a breeze through an autumn branch. Something else I've noticed, is how many of these thoughts I've accumulated recently. Not too sure why, but more things occur that might be fitting matter for these parts.

I wonder, would you have me describe what I see in this part of the world? Would it be too dull for your tastes perhaps, it's generally too dull for mine, but then I may have been here too long. You however are unlikely ever to see what I see. Do you need to know about the highway along which regularly traipse an endless stream of 4x4's and fuel wagons? If the sky were blue, I'd tell you, but as always, it's shrouded in a fine mist of dust particles which smother and ingratiate their way into everything - Johnson's will never go out of business here. It's a little on the breezy side today, which means an extra helping of dust is to be served up to us.

For the most part you know, Saudi Arabia is not a very exciting place. It lacks cinemas (see earlier post regarding my views on film watching), it's often too hot to be outside, did I mention the dust? It hosts a plethora of shopping centres (Mall's for the 'Muricans), but these are usually home to endless numbers of womens and childrens clothing shops, plus the obligatory fast food joints. Book shops, hifi stores, bars, music stores and much else of any interest are absent, at least from MallWorld. You can find stuff of course, but the chances are that it will be out of the way, poorly stocked, or closed for prayer when you get there. This is not a place to inspire passion in your soul, but then again if you were to judge by the exploding population of the country, then perhaps that's about all it does.

Or so it would seem, not that I've done much to be honest. It would though seem that my Google rank on the search term "Izdihar" is now up to #2 - Google search for Izdihar. Now, how to get that top spot I wonder?

Edit: Just did a search on "Chris of Arabia" too. If you include the quotation marks in the search, I seem to occupy at least the first three pages of the Google search results - perhaps now would be a good time to go into witness protection...

The more I look around other people's blogs, the more I find a propensity for creating lists of salient (and not so salient) facts and figures about the blogee. As one who can rarely resist a trend and probably because I doubt I ever had an original thought in my life, I may as well start one here. The prime reason for this I must add, is that I've not said an awful lot in these parts of late. For my inspiration this evening, I give you a list courtesy of sex blogger in-Chief, Ms Margolis - her list. I should add that there are aspects of her list I will not be attempting to match - I'll leave you to work out what those are for yourselves...

• I was born in the 60's and can even claim to remember parts of this
• I have lived and worked in the Middle East for the last 10 years
• I spent some 9 years in the Royal Air Force
• I love music above any other art form, even more so if it contains big raunchy guitar sounds
• I have noticed that everything on this list begins with the letter "I"
• I own and play quite a few guitars
• I am something of a fidget, and can't sit still in front of a film, this is an art form that's never really grabbed me
• Probably my favourite song is Rush's Limelight from their 'Moving Pictures' album. I use the first 11 seconds of this song as my mobile phone ringtone
• The irony of the conjunction of the last two items has not escaped me...
• I can account now for two marriages (2nd one reaches its 10th anniversary next July), so you could say it's an institution I'm comfortable with
• It's probably fair to say I'm fascinated by web-tech stuff, but I never feel I know enough to do anything productive in that vein
• My other significant art form interest is photography, something readily confirmed by a quick browse here within
• I do tend to get bored rather easily and engage with, drift away from and pick-up again, a wide range of interests
• Currently, I'm trying to work out how to write something that might stand some sort of test of time
• I will of course tire of the notion at some point over the next 48 hours
• Reading is another place you can find me, this may be one the few interests I have that I never tire of
• Despite my best efforts, I almost always become emotionally involved with the story line and its characters
• ...I should at this juncture state that the above was not strictly true for "A Brief History of Time", sorry Stephen
• I have a deep seated dislike of exercise, as much as I know it's good for me
• One three and half year old coronary stent later, there is perhaps the suggestion that I ought to deal with the above
• The less said about golf the better - I have history...
• I've never been to Agent Provocateur
• I tend to view food as something of a chore, though I can cook perfectly well - I tend to think in terms of knitting patterns here, just follow the instructions
• I abhor boorish behaviour and will actively seek to avoid it
• Mornings are to be avoided at all costs, unless they are approached from midnight onwards
• I'm not what you would call a big drinker, though I do enjoy a pint of Guinness and a descent bottle of vino collapso
• I am of the firm belief that the mouth and the ears should be used in direct proportion to which they are provided
• I 'get' Twitter (though not yet the new lists feature)
• I miss Pownce - damn you Messrs Rose, Burka and Ms Culver - will SixApart ever resurrect it I wonder? I hope so...
• I have no interest in clothing or fashion - shopping in this area is an in and out job, there is much more to life
• Unless of course it is any form of technical clothing related to a sporting or recreational activity
• I am a proud season ticket holding Stoke City fan, even if it does currently mean that a home game is a 6,000 mile round trip
• The old Victoria Ground was no more than 100 yards from the house I inhabited for the first 8 years of my life - it infected me righteously
• Dentists are to be feared and preferably avoided unless essential maintenance deems their services unavoidable
• I detest green and runner beans in all their forms - I spent many a miserable hour at the Sunday dinner table in their presence, however the battle of wills on their account was always settled in my favour
• I prefer buying CDs to downloading inferior quality MP3 or other compressed format media
• As a direct consequence of the above, it has taken an awful lot of time to get the 6,600 tracks I have on my iPod processed through iTunes
• I am not overly concerned by the presence of chemicals in my diet, or the use of prescription drugs where required
• I would though, actively avoid the latter where there intent is to somehow alter my mood, even where prescribed for addressing sleep pattern deficiencies
• You are unlikely to change my opinion, though I will not press them upon you
• Likewise, I have no real desire to have you proselytise your opinion on me - let's agree to disagree now and save any aggravation later
• ...how many is that?
• I have no use for religion and would generally consider blind faith in the absence of empirical evidence to be nonsensical. Where empirical evidence is not available, I have no desire to ascribe any untested or manifestly unusual behaviour or observation to any given choice of deity - in this regard, I subscribe firmly to the Adams school to whit "Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?"
• Anyone who believes that the concept that "all men are created equal" can be put into practice needs to visit the Middle East
• I firmly believe that no one reads this blog and that the b2evolution stats pages are auto-generated to make me feel better about the time their software steals from me
• Were I to start tomorrow, I would produce a different list
• I have almost certainly gone on for too long, though surprisingly the spelling and grammar appears to have held up really well

I am hopeful that I have done the list meme proud, but only you can say for sure...

I thought that today I would do a list, everyone else does them after all, so why should my readers miss out on all the fun. Not sure where these came from, but they somewhat inexplicably popped into my head today. So for now then, here we go:

• lazy
• self-serving
• incompetent
• corrupt
• nepotism
• racist
• missing
• contemptible
• spineless
• arrogant

Yep, I think that's it. A good list that one, even if I do say so myself

What's hidden behind the publicly visible blogger pages I wonder? How many unfinished, or possibly finished, posts still languish behind a 'Draft' status, publish button un-pressed? What's hidden there? Perhaps the blogger got cold feet, subject matter too raw to be allowed into the light of day perhaps, or maybe they just realised the realisation of their literary masterpiece just wasn't.

Whatever the reasoning, they are still there, sitting in database records, needing only a single click of mouse to release it out into the wild. What's out there, what's being hidden from view, wouldn't you like to know?