i sit here in amazement…

I do. I sit here in amazement at the world around me and the things I hear and see. I am trying to finish a pub quiz that I am writing for tonight but I have been distracted by the telly and the internet. The internet purely because it is a brilliant tool for researching into questions, but also a distraction. I was looking at music downloads and found a band called ‘Mustard Pimp’. What on Earth are people taking when they come up with these names??

‘Come on, lads, what are we gonna call ourselves?’

‘Howabout Anchovy Wallpaper?’

‘Chrysanthemum Butt Plug?’

‘Nah. I’ve got it! It’ll be a sure fire winner with the oldies! Mustard Pimp!’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Superb!’

‘Why can’t you be happy staying plain old  Justin Beiber?’

 

Then the telly. Purely because it was on and the adverts came on and distracted me with a child's game that is set to be the hottest, and most wanted toy this Christmas. ‘Doggy Doo!’ A game about canine crap. You feed a plastic dog and eventually he will defecate. I imagine that the winner is the one that collects the least poop. And I used to think that Buckaroo was weird!

 

I am no longer a grumpy old man. I am a grumpy, bemused old man.

Giant68

Uno cerveza, Jose, por favor…

 

I have been to Spain again to visit Jose the surly barman. The sun was shining, the sky was still blue, and Jose, bless him, was still surly. But he remembered us from last year and smiled, sort of, or it could have been wind. In fact it probably was wind.

It still feels a little strange to be sat under his shiny new awning in the middle of the road. Cars driving past, people strolling by. And there are me and Mrs Giant68, and our friends, sitting there  downing the cerveza like a bunch of thirsty alcoholics!

The bbq is showing signs of wear and tear, in fact, the bottom was hanging out of Joses bbq. All he did was lay a tin plate across the inside to hold the broken pallet that he was burning to cook the food over. But the sardines were fantastic that he cooked on it, and they were free.

We learnt several things while were there. Jose has a good memory (he remembered us, possibly due to the size of our tips, I expect that is how he could afford the new awning!). Friendships don’t die out over the course of a year, it was really good to see Harry, Ann, Sian, Amy and Jeremy again. And we learnt a new use for cola. I will not enlighten you over this last one, but all that were on the roundabout that night will remember it.

Now to the flights. Aircraft, it has been said, are metal tubes full of other peoples farts. The flight out certainly was. It must be the change in air pressure but the intestinal gasses are just sucked out of me when I am on a plane. I apologise to everyone that had to share the plane with me that day! But on the way back we suffered more. Not gas. Our ears were assaulted by the young children that some inconsiderate individual had sneaked on board. If you are a regular reader of my blogs you will know that I am not a fan of children in places that are not suitable. I would not consider taking a very young  child on plane to a country that is very hot  and the food is different. It doesn’t strike me as much of a holiday when you, continually, have to keep the sprogs entertained and fed with English food. They will get sunburnt and cry. They will get hungry and cry. They will get tired and cry. Their ears will hurt on a plane and they will frickin’ well cry!

Take them to Butlins, for God’s sake! They will be catered for. They will not get sunburnt as there will be no sun. They will eat ordinary food. They will sleep because the nights are not too hot. They will not cry. But most of all they will not irritate me.

Normal service has been resumed. I am grumpy again.

Regards

Giant68

I can hear music…

I have a very eclectic taste in music. This means that I have a music collection that contains albums from the likes of Black Sabbath to operettas by Gilbert and Sullivan. Now, most people I know generally stick to a relatively narrow range of musical styles, some like punk, i have a friend who is seriously into ska, each to their own i suppose.

I have my favourites and this changes depending on my mood or the time of day. My all time favourites are The Moody Blues, Pink Floyd, Joe Bonamassa and now Caro Emerald.

I have a tendency to buy albums based on hearing one track from it on the radio, or the artwork on the cover. This has led to me buying some real crap, but also some real crackers. I read a series of books by a woman called Rachel Caine, and at the back of one of them, in the credits and acknowledgements, she stated that she was inspired by listening to Joe Bonamassa. Ok, thought I, I’ll find some Joe Bonamassa and have a listen. Loved it, and now have all his albums plus one he has done with some others calling themselves Black Country Communion.

Because I am over halfway through my life I can remember when Dave Lee Travis was on Radio 1 at the weekend, to be honest I can remember Junior Choice at the weekend with Ed ‘Stewpot’ Stewart (I can still hear ‘Sparkies magic Piano’ by Henry Blair!). DLT used to play some cracking tunes and after hearing them I would, sometimes, go out and buy the album, Marc Cohn had a good album and I bought that after hearing ‘Walking in Memphis’ one Saturday. Forget that horrible cover version by Cher!!!

I have just bought an album by a woman named Caro Emerald based on listening to one track on the radio while I was out and about in the car. She sings with a very 1950’s style and I can imagine myself suited and booted in some smokey club…

I nearly added dancing to that last statement but, unlike Mrs Giant68, I have 2 left feet, in 2 right shoes. I fail to understand how people can get their bodies to move the way they do. Mrs Giant68 likes to watch ‘Strictly Come Dancing’ and, I must admit, that I occasionally glance up from my book and take a peek. I would love to be able to tango, but the bodies change direction instantly. My body was pretty obviously designed with comfort in mind and has the turning circle and stopping distance of an oceangoing supertanker! But the whole thing looks very elegant, very smooth, very not me. Still, I can dream.

Regards

Giant68 x

The meek will not inherit the Earth!

I was taught to be courteous. I have taught my children to be courteous. I was taught to stand aside and let people pass. Hold doors open, give up my seat on the bus or train, say please and thank you.

I am proud that my children have listened to me and are polite and courteous. I have been congratulated by friends, family and various people that I don’t know from Adam, on having such well behaved and polite children.

But there comes a time when I am really fed up with being so polite. When will people get out of my way, or give up a seat for me or even say thank you? If I am walking along the street with Mrs Giant68, side by side, and people are approaching, I will step ahead and move over so that they can pass. But more and more often i am forced to leave the pavement because people will not move over for me. They want the whole pavement. Well, I am so sorry, but the worm is turning. I will no longer give you all the space you want. You will get exactly what you need. If you want more you will find that 18 stone of Giant68 is in the way.

I remember when I was a kid that people in a crowded place tend to not notice that there is a small person in the way and they do try to walk through the space where there is a small child. When my kids were small i would get them to walk in front of me. It seemed that I was invisible at this point because people would still try and walk through my kids. There have been  a number of people that have suddenly come up short when they realise that I was there! 

It still makes me chuckle that I seem to have a stealth mode fitted to my body. People will not see me. If only it was true. Stealth mode on the body? I would be in the ladies changing rooms having a good look! Unfortunately it doesn’t work like that. It’s only stealth mode when I am walking in the street or in the car (the stealth field stretches to fit around the car when I am in it!).

 

And then there is the, now common, greeting of a’right mate from the checkout person in the supermarket. Get it straight! I am not your mate. I will never be your mate! I am a customer. I am Sir. Or Mr Giant68. I will not be referred to as mate by someone with more piercings than a second hand dartboard, greasy hair that needs a damned good trim and rampant acne! Courtesy should be compulsory, it should be a law of nature!

I can feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about it, so I am going to open a bottle of South African Pinotage and relax for five minutes.

Bye for now.

Giant68     x

Competition

Now I have some competition. I’ll have to up my game a little, I think. I made a suggestion, a while back, to a friend that he ought to put his money where his mouth is and write his own blog. Well, he has gone and done it. If you would care to have a look at what he writing pop over to www.fiveminutewander.blogspot.com
He is sure to have an interesting take on many things as he is a little older than me and, therefore, has more life experience than I have. Go on, have a look.

In the meantime, i am sat in my conservatory, on a Sunday morning, listening to the rain pattering on the roof, having had a very pleasant full English, dreaming about heat and sunshine.
It is June and it is cold and wet. In some weeks time myself and Mrs Giant68 will be off to sunny Spain again, and i can’t wait. I know we have had some decent weather and we need the rain but I really want heat and unbroken sunshine, Spanish beaches and Sangria…
I’m looking forward to renewing friendships with people I haven’t seen for a year, Jose the surly barman, Harry and Ann, Amy, Sian, Jeremy, alcohol and bbqs. Sleeping outside because it is too warm inside, alcohol, tapas, alcohol, you get the idea.
Before that, however, I have to make a start on the bathroom and kitchen. Mrs Giant68 has decided that we need them renewing. I don’t see what is wrong with the avocado bathroom suite. But she who must be obeyed has decreed that it will be done.  So if I fail to regularly post a new blog just assume that I am up to my elbows in a new toilet.
Regards
Giant68 )

Camp or what?

Did that camp thing again last month. You know, the thing with the ropes and the canvas. Oh, I see. You were thinking of the other camp thing… What do you think I am, some kind of pervert? That was a rhetorical question.

No, once again we packed the entire contents of my house into the car, good job the new car is bigger than the old one, and drove to a field just outside Salisbury. Emptied it all out onto the grass, drank lots of red wine (other types of alcohol are available) and then loaded the cars back up and went home. Sounds fun, doesn’t it? Bet you wish you had been there.

There was one subtle difference this year, though, or two. One. The weather, while good during the day, was bloody freezing at night. We were sat around the table with every article of clothing on that we could find. The alcohol did give a little warm glow but that was quickly stolen by the freezing air temperature.

The other difference was that we had our granddaughter with us. Thoughtfully, though, the little one had brought her parents with her. Now I love my grandchild to bits, but she can  be a little cow at times. She knows that she shouldn’t do some things but she does them anyway. Then gives you a look that dares you to tell her off. But as Guns ’n’ Roses once said “She’s got eyes of the bluest skies…”  And besides that, I am her granddad. I am here just to lead her into trouble. But it doesn’t lead to a very relaxing camping experience.

We’re going again at the end of this month. Just me and Mrs Giant68 and maybe a couple of friends.

Cheers

Giant68 x

Far East, Leather…

I saw the last of an old friend this week. I have known her for nearly 8 years and in that time she has taken me to allsorts of places. We have been in obscure places after dark, obscure places in daylight. We have seen each other nearly every day over the eight years that we had  a relationship. And now that she is gone I, sort of, miss her.
My friends shared her, sometimes. We did it all together. We had some fun. Lots of fun.

I am talking about my car. I bought her brand, spanking new in August 2003. Now, for all the petrolhheads out there, you will not be too impressed. She was a Kia Rio. She was black, leather lined, automatic gearbox. And to me she was the best car I had ever had. I had never bought new, all my previous cars were at least 10 years old. Some of them were heaps of junk, most of them were ok. But this was brand new. When I drove her off the forecourt people looked and you could see them say “Look, a new car”
In my early days I never owned a car long enough to put it through an MOT. Probably a good thing really, thinking about the state of some of them. I remember the MK1 Escort that I cut the bumpers and installed spotlights so that it looked like the Escort Mexico. I had a 2.8 Ford Granada, she was one of my favourites. She was fast, and comfortable and saw some action (If you know what I mean)
I had a Renault 5 that you had to stall to stop the engine due to the head gasket being blown and when the key was turned off the engine would splutter on and on. And it had no radio. I traded that in for a Ford Cortina that did have a radio. Gotta have music while I drive!
But the last one lasted a long time. She had been all over the country with me and Mrs Giant68, and the two mini giants. Dusty, our dog, had drooled all over the boot on the way to the park or the beach. And now she has gone to a dealer to be refurbished and sold to someone else. I hope that whoever it is they look after her. I wonder if they will ever think of her history, of where she has been and what she has done?

I, now, begin a new relationship with a new car. She has a few miles on the clock, been around the block a few times, but times are harder than they were and a brand new one was a little too dear for me this time. But we will have fun, and travel, hopefully, to places that she, and I, have never been. I wonder what she has done and where she has been over the last 5 years?