New career

I just phoned up the gifts department at John Lewis in Sheffield about our wedding list. The casual, none-more Sheffield bloke at the other end told me just to "come into the store and do the biz, young man." Five minutes later, my mobile rings - here's the conversation.
JLB: "Is that Danielle?"
L: "No, it's Laurie."
JLB. "Alright Loz (a bit informal, but let it ride). It's about your wedding list. Do you want to come in the store?"
L: "I just spoke to you and sorted it out."
JLB: "Oh yeah, so you did. At least you're on the ball - unlike me."
L: "Why, are you getting married too?"
JLB: "Nah, no chance. I've been divorced twice - I'd rather hang myself."
L: "Do you think you should be working in a wedding gifts department.
JLB: "Spose not, I guess I should work on me sales pitch. Thanks."

Happy happy joy joy

Reading Mark Oliver Everett's Things The Grandchildren Should Know. A macabre recollection of the Eels frontman's life, the plot arc goes something like - meet person, person does lovely thing involves cats or jokes or bizarre dress, person dies, E writes song, meets people, people die in freak lawnmower/ski/cat/binocular accident. Wonderful, feel-good stuff, obviously. The maudlin never scanned so good.

Big-handed dwarf or kneeling weirdo?

Monarco Musing

Could you get more quintessentially English seaside resort? Although full marks to Monarco, this billboard could almost carry itself off as northern soul poster. But check the price of that Pensioners' Special!!

Father Abram

Went to the delightful Cleethorpes to interview jazz dude Abram Wilson this week. This cat has played with Dr John and Soweto Kinch, but I challenge the most diligent shorthand perfectionist to try and keep up with his 180mph New Orleans scat. And what is the shortform for "skiddly-nee-ba-be-bop"? A mess, is what.

Kel Surprise (to be delivered in French accent)

So Kelvin McKenzie is hotly tipped to join the by-election caused by David Davis' Magna Carta (personally I thought they did a decent curry) protests. I like Kelvin - expecially his TV work bringing such inspirational characters as Newsey Bunny to the information gathering super highway (admittedly more of a B-road back in them Cable days). But, interviewed by Peter Levy for BBC's Look North this lunchtime he urged: "the people of Hull to get out and vote in Haltemprice and Howden". Which of course they can't, seeing as they have three MPs of their own and Howden is actually 30 miles away.

Secondly, supermac said he didn't know where Howden actually was and had never been there. Why Kelvin, it's only the headquarters of the Press Association, surely one of your biggest sources of news during your days as a darling at Wapping Wharf?

Happy birthday, purple fella

He's been a symbol, a slave, Victor, a basketball whizz, purple trouseured funk god, actor, musician and Mail-on-Sunday fan. But for today, at least, Prince Rodgers Nelson is an astonishing 50. Looking good on it, as well, Princey-baby. Better than he did in '79, arguably.

Mood: Raspberry Beret

Funk: Housequake

Film: A toss-up between Under The Cherry Moon and Batman

Juke Box Ju-Ju

Below are three videos, feel free to rate your favourites while I wait for the rain to stop.

Oh, Jeremy ...

Anyone spot a squelcy northern nautical theme (back to proper words and sentences next...)?

Laura Marling - Cross Your Fingers/ Crawled Out Of The Sea

Part two of my Saturday music trilogy, waiting at the computer by my window waiting for the rain to end

Mystery Jets - Two Doors Down

Wonderful extra marks for the eightiestasticness. Beats the Freshley Squeezed presenters into an insipid cocked hat.

Wedding wind-up/blues

So far, the wedding plans have gone splendidly, only for two rather major hurdles to crop up over the weekend. For a start, our jeweller/rock n' roller Thai Paul announces that his volatile 50s wok n' wollas have split up, at the exact same venue where the Cyclones played their last gig almost two years previously. Spooky, huh? Lessons for all weddingy couples: don't trust yer jeweller with yer rock n' roll. Secondly, there's the small matter of our wedding reception being taken to the High Court by the Inland Revenue! Suggestions/ideas on a blogcard, please!

Strim when you're winning

As far as I know there isn't a verse in T-Rex's "Whatever Happened To The Teenage Dream" that says 'bought a strimmer from B and Q, so I could sort out my suicidal verges'. There should be. It feels awfully grown up to be spending cash on such things, with the only rock n' roll element being my schoolboy like refusal to read the instructions. Took the new toy down the allotment on Sunday, where, by the time we'd figured out how to use it, it ran out of battery. Undeterred, we charged the mutha-sucka and returned yesterday, only for the spool to run out just seconds after making some paltry headway. Spools out for summer. I may put a picture of Thatcher's head on the base to motivate future grassy encounters.

In positive plot news, the crowd of people who normally stand at the end of our plot pointing and laughing has diminished.

Listening: Laura Marling, Hawkwind, Marlena Shaw

Watching: The Wire (recording it off the telly means one episode a week, which means the pleasure ain't gonna stop til at least October! Hurrah!)

Barton Radar: Barton Beer Festival has just been and gone, but Barton Bike Night is only three weeks away!