What's Doing

A thoroughly enjoyable day today with the 70’s Throwback at the Bill Gwynne Rally School. We were driving Mark II Escorts around their gravel stage, practising the art of travelling both sideways and forwards at the same time. We also managed rather a lot of handbrake turns as well. Which was nice.

When I grow up I’m going to have a house with a garden large enough to have it’s own rally stage (right next to the Olympic sized pool and tennis court). Then I can spin around on it until I’m not actually completely rubbish at the whole lark.

Hell of a blast though, highly recommended to all of you. Especially if you have pretensions to being a petrol head. That’s my way of saying anyone but Simon.

SWMBO has updated her blog. Possibly the least regularly updated web site ever, there have been a mere fifteen months between posts.

Worrying though, are the adverts that appear on the page. These are Google Ads which are targeted by addressing subjects that are mentioned on the page itself. When I viewed Bobo’s Babblings the adverts were for flatulence and general stomach relief. Does this tell us anything?

Today, for the first time since about 1990, I exercised my democratic right to vote. There are a number of reasons for the gap. Amongst them are apathy, poll tax dodging and living overseas for a number of years. But it felt good to get back into the democratic saddle. Across the country we have the elections to the European Parliament. Which is not a gravy train, honest.

Here in London we get the added responsibility of electing a mayor. Whilst I think that cuddly Ken is probably the best man for the job I couldn’t bring myself to vote for him. He is, after all, the official Labour Party candidate and as I may have mentioned once or twice we differ in our views on ID cards and software patents.

It seems that the only parties who do agree with me on these issues, at least according to Alan Cox, are the Greens (far too hippy dippy) and the UKIP (the BNP with a pearly white smile). It could well be that we are doomed. One of these days I will regale you with the story of the time I ate a Big Mac in the main hall of the Green Party conference.

Regardless, the exercise of the vote is the important thing. If attendances at the polls continue to decline politicians will start to ignore the views of the people. Even more than they do at the moment. Tony Blair asks us to trust him because he knows what he is doing. Well I don’t believe him and have let him know in the only way available to me, especially as my MP doesn’t answer my correspondence.

The other highlight of the day was our weekly Dad’s lunch. Sadly this had to be cancelled as Sam, JFGP‘s friend, had decided that today was the day that he was going to take up projectile vomiting as a serious pastime.

Over on my other blog there is news of my latest gadget. This is what happens when SWMBO gives me some pocket money and tells me to "go up west and buy yourself something nice." Although I’m not sure she meant me to splash the cash on some technology.

This could be quite tragic. It means that I can surf the web from the sofa in the evenings. Expect more rambling blog posts as the Nelsons slip down.

Congratulations to the Tinkie-Winkie Palmers of South East London on the arrival of their first born.

Baby palmer, a strapping young chap, was born at 9:51 am on Monday the 7th of June, 2004 and apparently tipped the scales at 7 pounds and 8 ounces or a bit over 3 and a third kilos in new money.

No name yet, or pictures on the intar-web-net. Which is a bit slack, I’m sure I had pictures of JFGP up the same day.

<Update>He was actually born on Sunday the 6th and his full name is Ben William Palmer. Pictures are available here. </Update>

Once more, old Scaryduck hits the nail on the head with his latest observation on those St George’s flags which are popping up everywhere. We, naturally, have none on our car, nor any items of Burberry attire, thankfully.

For those living in a whole in the ground, or overseas, Euro 2004 starts next week. As with the World Cup a couple of years ago a football tournament these days seems to be nothing more than a PR bonanza for the British National Party. The 70’s throwback has it right when he calls this kind of mass hysteria "a bunch of jingoistic nonsense."

Besides which, come on people it is England for pete’s sake. An early flourish and out on penalties in the quarter finals is the destiny of the national team and you know it. Give it up and save your excitement for England v the All Blacks this weekend. Now that will be a proper match.

Courtesy of the smashing people at Wisden I bring you the words of John Birmingham;

"Formula One racing is real-world proof of chaos theory. As is Zimbabwe, but without the same number of hotties trackside."

On ya, Johnny. Although the ever scary Kerry O’Keefe runs him a close second with this gem;

"Boy George would be considered straight at the University of Western Australia."

Some of the finest writing, and coherent arguments, I have read in a very long time are in this piece written by Kurt Vonnegut. It doesn’t mention ID cards or software patents but hits the nail on the head time after time.

If you do nothing else today have a read, then tell me what you think in the comments.

At last. The tickets are booked and (almost) paid for. We leave this sceptred isle on the 4th of October and land back in Sydney for a resumption of our Aussie lives on the 13th of October. I can’t wait.

The delay is due to a short layover in a little place in Thailand for family rest and recuperation. I can’t wait for that either.

Really we only came back to the UK for three months to get married. That was in July 2002. By the time we leave it will have been two years and three months. We did get slightly sidetracked by a little bloke but now is as good a time as any to return to the land down under. Of course, we’re waiting until October to avoid consecutive winters. With a bit of luck we will go from a nice warm Autumn in the mother country to a nice, shiny Spring in Sydney. Well, a chap can dream.

I was going to write about yet another busy (long) weekend for the Todd clan. I was planning on waxing lyrical about our Saturday trip to the Zurich final, our Sunday lunch to celebrate my mother-in-law’s birthday and the (extensively catered) barbecue at Lewis mansions on Monday.

But then I spent today changing nappies. Rather a lot of nappies. All full of very smelly and very sticky poo.

Henceforth this will be known as the international day of poo. I’m off to wash my hands.