Someday I’m finally gonna let go, ‘Cause I know there’s a better way. And I wanna know what’s over that rainbow I’m gonna get out of here someday, someday (Steve Earle)

And so, dear listener, I broadcast this show after three nights of night shift and it may show as the show continues. The last time I did that I actually came home to do some editing for a student. It was the usual kinda thing;

‘Dear John I know it’s short notice but is there any chance that I can have this back by lunchtime today’….and we know I’m a nice guy and I say that ‘I will do my best’ – so instead of going home and going to bed I sit down at the laptop (which Skippy has kindly switched on) and begin to work…

And ten minutes later I find my head on the keyboard and this on the screen


Not what she’d written but what my head had chosen to write when it came into contact with the keyboard. So coffee was made and the job was done. Slowly. 😦

But I’ve really got to be careful how much coffee I drink. I have a good friend, whose name I shall not reveal, but if I meet her in the afternoon, it is often possible to work out whether she has had two cups instead of one in the morning. I am a recovered problem drinker and former broadcast journalist. I can drink coffee until Trey takes the cows home. I thought.

So I’m out at Hamilton Uny and I have a couple of cups with uni-Jo discussing the possibility of white knuckle riding as part of the Commemoration celebrations for the date of my birth on Wed, 2nd July. This is a space well worth watching. And we’re joined by the good Dr W, who has certain ideas, and by Jo’s Prof who wears crisp white t-shirts, eats healthily and designs the covers of his own books. And I have a third cup. On a breakfast of one apple.

I become a gibbering wreck. I have no control of what I say. I become slightly disorientated. I have strange palpitations on the train home. Luckily I had taken the train there. I will be more careful of liquid intake in future. 🙂

Anyway what I was trying to say was…….as some of you know I work as a project worker in supported accommodation for the homeless. They’re not hostels and they’re not shelters; they’re about helping people who have gone through a bad time back to independent living. There’s a confidentiality aspect and I don’t want to identify people.

But I do want to talk about a new resident (and my friend Ann from Prostate Cancer HQ who also writes about, and photographs, wildlife in a central Scotland habitat might be interested in this but it’s not quite does and deer at six paces). It was a spider. Scuttling along the office floor which had been freshly mopped. It was a reasonable size and if I say it was clean, does that sound daft? But for a large part of the shift, it became our friend. But it wasn’t there last night…….It was missed.

But what did happen was……..oh, no I can’t tell you that bit, can I? But it didn’t require stitches.

What else?

Oh, yes, Father’s day BBQ with three dads in attendance for two offspring and can I make a confession here? Quorn burgers taste much better when they’re on the same barbecue as real meat. That’s all I’m saying. But an interesting observation from the night. Why didn’t I have a commemoration birthday honours list like the Queen?

Nice thought but maybe too late?

What I would like to do, tho’ is what every publication does at this time of year and recommend Summer reading. Well a book. It’s called Momo and the Toto Brats and it’s the latest by the very successful children’s author Wendy Hesketh and is available from the emporium which used to be run by the rainforestriverman – or Amazon to give the shop its full name. Apparently it sells books and CDs online. It’ll never catch on, I told him. He got out. 🙂

Anyway I don’t often recommend books and the last one was from a totally different genre and was by Hogan Sinclair – same outlet. Same quality.

And finally I’d like to thank this show’s North London correspondent (Becky) who so obvs had my best interests at heart. (Are you still Miss Marpleing btw, Becky?). She has found the perfect job opportunity for me……. As a ghost performing on the Ghost Train on Carters Steam Fair – which sounds a damn fine organisation with a What the Butler show and other penny geggy exhibits. Salary? You have a choice. It’s either 10 p per scream or the guaranteed minimum wage. Payment by results for scaring people? You couldn’t make it up, could you? As cynical old hacks like me say. 😉

Cya, keep(ing) it fun and still wearing that badge? Yes and it’s not getting involved in any aspect of the
Referendum trolling that is going on.

Johnt850, who will kneecap anyone who talks about him being a year older in a week or so’s time. It’s a nano-second if it’s anything.

Last week, as I said, was Father’s day and I enjoyed mine but I can never spend time with my son without thinking of the one thing he will inherit from me that I’d rather he didn’t get. His chance of getting prostate cancer is 2.5 times higher because I had it. I didn’t get mine from my father as there were just traces when my dad died. I got mine cos of a shite lifestyle on which the evil cancer cell pounced. Sorry Son Brian……live long and prosper.

This is Kate Perry and Birthday. No. No reason.


One Response to “Someday I’m finally gonna let go, ‘Cause I know there’s a better way. And I wanna know what’s over that rainbow I’m gonna get out of here someday, someday (Steve Earle)”

  1. Becky Garrett Says:

    So I’m belatedly catching up with the blog and I notice I’ve been elevated to North London correspondent! Twenty two years later, my English and Media degree finally pays off! I’m honoured. In answer to your question, my Miss Marpling has been well and truly scuppered by a rather startling occurence: after three years the neighbour in question actually spoke to me! Naturally, being a Londoner, my instinct was to run, but fortunately my Cockney grandma’s genes kicked in and we had a good old chat. No mystery, just a dodgy blind cord..

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