and now, for my next trick....

ahh, the safe paralysis of indecision. it's that difficult second post you see. which of a billion directions to take? and, instead of the tawdry scrabble for ideas that will doubtless characterise my 2000th post, my mind is leaping between options like a dubious, thin-faced fairground worker between tea-cups on a waltzer.

initally my seething outrage at this speech by our dear leader seemed like a good way to go, but was quickly discarded as too way too political/dull.

then, a random conversation last night drew me towards the ukulele orchestra of great britain who are nowhere near as famous as people as witty and skillful as they are should be (even for a jokey covers act). but ultimately there's not much you can say apart from "check these guys out - they're skill" and i seem to have just done that.

so i was forced to head on, deeper in to the tangenital recesses of my mind. which, duly came up with the fact that at some stage i need to do a meet the family post. but i'm enjoying the paper-thin sense of mystery for now and there's plenty of time for all that.

then, salvation arrived in the form of adrian, solveig and, of course, the ever fashionable freyja, who came over for lunch today and gave me plenty of tasty food for thought. H and I are not yet "babied up", but increasing numbers of our friends are (interestingly coinciding with them developing a hitherto unexplored interest in blogging) and this has inevitably led to some shifts in everyone's relationships. for years, the social currency of my friendships has been the drunken, rambling, late night conversation, often after a club or some such music-heavy, conversation-light entertainment. you know the sort of thing - somewhere between:

"ish fickin great to see you, man. you're my mate, yeah. s'really good to see you."
(repeat ad infinitum, occasionally throwing in a reference to the previous night's music)

and

"i think what Perec was trying emphasise was the richness of human existance evident even within the banal, bourgeois, confines of a Paris apartment block, yer cnut"
(veer wildy between highbrow erudtion and scatological abuse)

and then, once kids come along, you have to come up with a whole new set of social situations to get the love, admiration and sense of self-satifaction when ppl laugh at your jokes, you previously regarded as yours by right. cos babies and warehouse parties just don't mix. of course, the more organised ones amongst us started this process early and if you've actually got kids i think hormones and playgroups just take care of the whole thing for you.

but, if you're a bit rubbish like me, it comes as a massive relief to remember that friendships forged in the white-hot crucible of the fashionable dance music scene are just as rewarding in the warm afterglow of a shared meal and a walk round the park with the little'un. ultimately, having children only puts time-constraints in the way of your friendships, it's not a brain-transplant or anything and that's something us smug, childless, dinkies would do well to remember.

but if any of you tell me "of course, you've got all this to look forward to." i will have you fucking killed.

which they didn't, and i love them for it.

so there. that was pretty long for a second post and just in case you got bored halfway through, your reward is this mind-boggling fantasic clip, also from Jools Hollands show, that H insisted i put in:



thangyewvermuch, goodnight.