6 September 2010 (Monday) - To the Wicked City

I finally got around to editing my Facebook friends list this morning. I’ve cut out over twenty people with whom I would seem to have only the most tenuous of connections (i.e. none at all). Whilst there’s no denying that I do use Facebook a lot, I’m finding it annoying enough to be told that people I do know have found lost cows in Farmville, and that they have beaten my score in some lame game or other. I really don’t care if someone I’ve never met nor communicated with in any way is creating a new mob in Mafia Wars.

I suppose I’m very fortunate to be able to have friends to throw away. I was amazed by today’s news – one of the founding members of a favourite band of mine has been found dead. Or that is, someone who might possibly be a member of that band has been found dead. It would seem that there was a road traffic accident in Devon last Friday, and police think they’ve identified the deceased from You-Tube videos. They might have identified him correctly, but they feel they need a formal identification and so are trying to contact the purported chap’s next of kin. It would seem the most likely candidate to actually be the deceased had an ex-girlfriend who is apparently “abroad”, and the police have formed the idea that the chap has a brother named David who lives somewhere in the Yorkshire area (that’s narrowed it down!). It always amazes me that there are people who have absolutely no one else in this world.

And then work – today was a day out. I had a day in the wicked city. Periodically I have cause to visit the University for various reasons. Today I was there to meet two students whose work I am to inspect over the next couple of years. The idea is that in order to achieve State Registration their work will be assessed by someone at the University and by someone in their workplace. And then I go along occasionally (as an impartial assessor) just to check that all is above board and that there is no shenanigans. So often students are both dull and dreary, or they so clearly feel the need to suck up to me as an assessor. It came as a breath of fresh air to meet my two students who are a lively pair. Once they told me that they were dreading being assigned to “someone normal” we got on like a house on fire.

I came home via Maplins (the electronics shop) where I had hoped to get a new astronomical laser. However the chap in the shop seemed to be something of a dumbo; he told me that none of his lasers were quite strong enough to actually reach the stars, but he could get one in for me, if I was prepared to come back in a few days time. I queried this, and the chap assured me that he could obtain a laser powerful enough to reach a star. I was under the impression that creating a laser beam with enough power not to be dissipated by the dust in several light years of interstellar space would require the industrial output of most of humanity, but what do I know?

As it was on the way to St Pancreas (!), I stopped off for a pint of lunch in the Bree Louise. I’ve mentioned this pub before. With a dozen ales straight from the barrel, it’s become one of my favourites. I’ve taken to calling in when I’m on my way home from the university, and during the late afternoon, it’s a really peaceful place to be. I sat with a pint of Gruntfuttock’s “Awld Arsewobbler” and a bag of crisps whilst quietly reading my book. There were about a dozen other people in the place, all doing the same. It’s a shame I only visit the university twice a year (on average).

And on the train home I remembered a conversation with one of my loyal readers about meeting up the next time I had cause to be in Central London. Sorry Terry… Next time….