My Blog Posts

Its the end of an era today as Goughie has given up test cricket. The Gough-meister, the Gough-atolla, Dazzler, Goughie, he goes by many names but those of use who saw him get a hat trick at the SCG on the 2nd of January 1999 simply know him as the best cricketer in the world. Those who actually remember those three balls hold him in even higher esteem. Darren, we will miss you, and the Dud still isn’t fit to kiss your boots.

I swear, each of these have been said by a member of my family. Can you match the quote to the person? “Oh daddy, with those nipples you are spoiling me.” “Will you listen to that symphony by trouser flute, its so catchy.”

The sound of silence is the current theme for this page. I’ve not got a lot to say because recently I’ve not been doing a lot. Unless you count all of the cooking, most of the sleeping and the odd nappy change. The boy continues to be the apple of his father’s eye, even if he was a little restless last night. His mother is tired and will be spending most of the week snoozing I believe. I can’t say that I blame her.

I would definitely like a hovercraft. In fact, its a mystery to me why we all don’t travel around in our own personal hover transporters. Regardless, a hovercraft that flies is just too good not to link to. Although I don’t fancy my chances of getting one as a birthday present. [Courtesy of Philip Greenspun]

Its the Ramsbottoms Just in case you were wondering what the blushing bride wore on her special day.

Are due to my sister who shall now only be referred to as Mrs Ramsbottom. She told us that she was just taking Mark to New Zealand for five and a bit weeks for a holiday. But no, the cheeky beggars only went and got married didn’t they. Rumour has it that they have been plotting this for eighteen months. Here’s wishing them all the best and lots of love from me, her and him.

Regular readers of this web page will be familiar with my enthusiastic liking for Scaryduck and the comedy stylings on his blog. Well, in between the movie polls and the stories of childhood mayhem and explosions this morning he has posted an absolute corker of a piece on current affairs. Go and take a look, nod at his sage wisdom and marvel at his erudition. Or, if you’re not in the mood for politics can I suggest a giggle at his stories of air cadet life as an alternative. For what its worth, when I was growing up we referred to the air cadets as the Afternoon Tea Club. Well, it made us laugh anyway.

This isn’t politics. I did, however, get to it via a discussion on the applicability of the LGPL and Java. Nevertheless, its funny. How many ways can you misinterpret a little simple communcation? Well, the answer appears to be a lot, just take a look at Eat Poop You Cat.

As well as listening to top tunes, I get to keep an eye on the cricket. Now, if only I didn’t haven’t to do any of that pesky work as well.

Today, I am mostly listening to; Something old - Steely Dan’s Gaucho Something new - Sleepy Jackson’s Lovers Something not so much borrowed, as polished - the remastered version of Marillion’s Afraid of Sunlight Other things that have brought a smile to my face recently are the croutons from Delia’s mixed leaf ceasar salad and my beloved’s elevation to the copper committee (she is number 932 if you’re that bothered). Mental note to self, stop using quite as many apostrophes.

This evening I missed the first half hour of Top Gear, possibly the finest programme currently on British television, because there was a special extended version of the nation’s favourite pile of pants on the other side. I would like to point out that it wasn’t my idea, her indoors just had to watch it. If I was a bitter man I’d say that it was a crime against humanity. Alternatively, I’ll just point to these pictures of my son.

Alexander George Todd. Born at St Georges, Tooting at 02:43am BST on the 15th of July, 2003. Mum and child are both well. I’m not tired, just really, really proud and happy.

of blogging. I’m off to the hospital to stand around whilst dedicated health professionals minister to the wife. Hopefully I’ll be back soon with embarrassing photos and a deep, deep craving for sleep.

Jolly good, wot! Anyone for tennis? That’ll be ten ponies, guv. You’re the epitome of everything that is english. Yey :) Hoist that Union Jack! How British are you? a quiz by alanna Now, of course, we critique the questions; Question 1 is, of course, a picture of the clock tower at the palace of Westminster (sometimes known as the houses of parliament). Big Ben is actually the bell which rings to mark the hour, and isn’t visible.

Herself is back in St Georges. She managed to stay out for about twenty hours before she was back in for more observation. The major reason for the re-admittance is that they managed to lose her “sample”. Which is understandable until I point out that it was in a five litre container. Five litres. One more than four. The thing was enormous - and they lost it. I hope they are a bit more careful with babies.

Blimey, no sooner had I written my previous entry than I came across this story about using software rather than hardware to process radio signals in the Guardian by that fine writer and pipe smoker Ben Hammersley. Interesting reading, and thought provoking about the future of the internet (which you probably don’t care about) as a facilitator of new ways of transmitting radio and television, which you probably do care about. Lets not even go into the implications for what this means to the mobile telephony industry, because by now you’ve got bored and wandered off to Dilbert.

I haven’t got a digital radio, but I do have the intarweb. On it you can listen to the mighty fine 6 Music. If you like good music give it a listen. Its also available via digital satellite in the UK apparently. Its rather good. I grew up listening to Radio 1 and whilst I have moved on, they have resolutely stuck to their target audience, the teenager. Which means that I listen for about two minutes, exclaim “all modern music is rubbish” and run for the safety of my CD collection.

I’d like to interrupt this interruption to report that all is now well. After twenty four hours of bed rest, hospital food and a four gallon jug Bobo is now home safe and well. More poking and prodding are required, naturally, but progress will be reported by herself whilst I concentrate on more important things, like giving my speakers a workout with Physical Graffiti.

It’s music morning here at Whats Doing. From the rather spanky looking, and recently discovered, PopMatters an interview with Pete Trewavas of Marillion. Positively prog-tastic mate.

This week, I am mostly listening to Ben Folds Live. My review is two words - “Bloody Marvelous”