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One really must enjoy the pleasure of an inadvertently well crafted day, and today was one of them. I don’t work on Fridays, so they hold potential for great and varied pleasures.
This one started with a trip to the bank. More than one attempt to solve my need for a home has fallen by the wayside in the last year, and I was gingerly revisiting the murder scene to find out just how much I had lost on lapsed mortgage offers. A fair amount it turns out, but worry not because without me having to go to the inconvenience of asking for it, they offered me FIVE times my salary - to make up for the lost arrangement fees, I presume. Hasn’t there been something in the news about that sort of thing not happening anymore
?
Anyway, head spinning I left and continue my internal debate about whether to go on a ride today. Blue skies and free time were in favour of the plan. Inability to breathe or go more than two minutes without blowing my nose, post Welsh weekend, argued against spending too much time inside a helmet.
There had been the beginnings of a plan for a Ros and BobA ride out, but Bob had the good sense to leave the vicinity and the XRV chivalry to provide a route for me to follow anyway. “I’ll do a little bit of it,” I thought, and Whealie did tell me to practice my corners. Well, it will come as no surprise to anyone that I resolutely missed almost every road I was aiming for and revisited quite a few than I had no intention of going to many times over. And it was blooming marvellous. That whole Surrey/Kent/West Sussex/Kent again/West Sussex again but somehow from the other direction, in the sun thing is to be recommended. I would do the routine ride out report thing of naming the roads etc., but I didn’t know where I was most of the time. But it was lovely. Green, bright and twisty. I was even in the vicinity of the national speed limit on the corners by the end, except of course when there was a car on the other side of the road and then I tried hard not to brake and told myself that Whealie says, “You know when to accelerate, it is exactly the moment when you usually brake”. Turns out that works quite well.
That being said, Croydon is equally unpleasant in either direction and I thought my hand might never straighten out of the cramp that had set in by the time I got home. Must get an adjustable clutch lever!
Anyway, back to the well crafted day bit. As a common place Friday treat I headed to the Barbican for an early movie and saw Michael Moore’s Capitalism: A Love Story. Foreclosures and evictions featured more than little, revisiting the earlier theme of the day. You can’t beat a good bit of polemic, emotive, bash the bad guy editing when you want to be wholly persuaded by a position you already hold. He even made a point about the power (and pointlessness) of voting, but I won't go into that because Whealie is a moderator and will banish this to the back of beyond if I do
. It is not without precedent that people have clapped at the end of a movie I have seen, but never before have the audience launched into a full throated singalong with the end soundtrack (white, middle class, Grauniad readers, every one I’ll bet you). I imagine even the late and marvellous Michael Foot might have tapped his stick and allowed that the scruffy bloke in the skip cap was something more than a semi-house-trained polecat. I didn’t miss the irony of the beauty of riding my second bike though the environmentally suicidally lit City on the way home
Can’t wait for next week.
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(Good name for a group........)
, I'll have to pop back later for another read.............................................. .........
- I've also been confined to the indoors with a bout of the rather serious............ man - flu
............................or the Evil One
Originally Posted by african twin
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