Combat Rock

 

Oxford Street is never quiet.  Even at 8pm when most high streets would be closing, the barriers coming down whilst tired shop assistants trudge towards a distant bus, it is frenetic: the coffee bars showing no sign of bringing in their seats for the night, the loud music still blaring from the speakers of the fashion establishments.

At lunch time it is worse: the crowds closing in on the pavement, making it impossible to move without playing a never ending chess game of manoeuvre, take and retreat to reach your destination.  

I only have about half an hour so I'm moving fast and trying to think ten steps ahead as I cross the road, turning right into the edge of Soho.  Immediately it's a different world.  The paint on the buildings seems more worn, the streets narrower and the tone of the shops changes from chain store to struggling business.  As I pass the travel agents, the hairdressers and the eateries here I feel sure that if I were to step inside and ask the right questions I would be directed towards the Ladies Of Negotiable Virtue waiting on the upper floors to deal with my enquiries (1)

Just down the road is the shop I'm looking for.  Apparently it was once a hang out for the disassociated youth but now it looks like it is mostly between jobs: taking whatever temporary trade comes its way.  I step inside and am pleased to see that there are others present and that they are more genteel than perhaps I was expecting.  On the left as I enter is the inevitable Over Priced Merchandise store with an array of T-shirts, mugs, albums and other purchasable paraphernalia whilst at the back I can see some evidence of what is to come in the shape of two elderly, battered and yet still inviting electric guitars.

Behind the counter where the shop assistants stand is a flight of stairs heading down below the ground and again I can hear murmured conversation from beneath.  There is a good crowd down here too despite the fact that the exhibition has been open for more than a week: mostly people who are a) slightly older than me and b) in my youth I would have steered clear of.

There's a coffin like container against the far wall, in which lies the shattered remains of a bass guitar that was smashed into three large pieces by its owner, generating one of the most iconic rock images of all time (see above), to the right there is a wall of perspex and through the letters of the name of the band I can see the other items on display.  Some are more interesting than others: the gold disks for instance are perhaps inevitable,  but the hand written set lists, type writer containing lyric sheets and even a chord diagram drawn by one of the members hints at much more.  Scattered in between the rare 7" singles are jackets and boiler suits worn by the band and just the occasional hint of the wider scene that they were a part of.

The only shame is that I have so little time and before I've really had a chance to look around I have to be going: heading back up to the ground floor where I take a brief second to wonder whether spending £20 on a Punk Rock T-shirt is a sensible decision for a Man Of My Advancing Years (yes, I decide, it is) and head out.

Across the road I catch a glimpse of an independent record shop called Sister Ray, which tells me all I need to know about the establishment (2) and I take a brief look inside: sure enough it is a dimly lit rabbit warren filled with nervous looking men in long jackets spending their days looking in vein for an original pressing of some deleted Frank Zappa album.  I know I will have to come again.

(1) I think Ladies Of Negotiable Virtue is a much nicer phrase than Prostitute don't you?  Plus it also sounds like a good name for a band.

(2) Sister Ray - a Velvet Underground/Lou Reed tracks

NB: For all those not familiar with the British punk rock scene of the 1970s let me bring you up to speed by telling you that The Clash (whose pop up exhibition this post is about) were probably one of the most important and influential.  If you don't believe me watch the below

Barry (With Apologies To Leonard Cohen)

Barry takes you down
To his place above the chip shop
You can hear the trucks go by
You can smell potatoes frying
And you know that he’s half crazy
And you’d really like to leave now
But he feeds you bread and marmite
That came all the way from Tesco’s
And he shows you his apartment
And it really is quite grotty
And just when you mean to tell him
That you’ve got to catch the late bus
He offers you some biscuits
That have chocolate on one side
That just seem so very tempting

And you want to call a taxi
When he tells you all the time
He’s been wearing womens’ undies
Now you’ll never wipe that image from your mind

Barry used to be a sailor
At the local water centre
And he used to own a speedboat
That he won on some old game show
But when he knew for certain
He was moving to the chip shop
He swapped it for a Rover
Which came all the way from Luton
And he gets out some more biscuits
With some jam in and rice paper
And he’s got a stamp collection
That could clearly last for hours

And there’s no sign of that taxi
And you’ve lost track of the time
And you’re thinking of those knickers
Yes you know you’ll never get them off your mind

Now Barry takes your hand
And he leads you to the chip shop
But the food is far too greasy
And your ulcer is complaining
And he really is depressing
As he talks of stamp collections
But he gets out some more biscuits
And this time they’re digestives
And you start to feel quite guilty
That you find him oh so dreary
He is leaning out for love
And will be that way forever
So you eat another biscuit

And you finally hear that taxi
And he chases you outside
Still wearing women’s knickers
And that image never fades within your mind

By the way - my blog is only allowing me to create posts in HTML - does anyone have any ideas what i can do about this?

It Must Be Thursday: Sleeping On The Job

“Sleep, those little slices of death: how I loathe them” I can’t say that I entirely agree with the above quote from the Godfather of Horror Edgar Rice Burroughs, I mean – who doesn’t like a nice kip? But then Burroughs was an odd man, always banging on about scary birds squawking “nevermore” and dying in circumstances that could barely have been more mysterious if Scooby Doo and the gang had been investigating them. But if there’s one thing that I DO hate about sleep it’s the way it tries to creep up on you at inappropriate times. As far as I’m concerned sleep should come a) when you have put your head on the pillow at night or b) when I call upon it to do so – IE when trying to sleep on the train in the morning. I do so envy those people who can fall instantly and on demand into a deep sleep when on the move – myself I find myself jerking endlessly awake at the merest movement of the track, with my head lolling forward or my neck twisted at an angle that should only be possible for owls or at the endless loud clanking of the doors of the train. As I have previously mentioned: public transport seems to be deliberately designed to make the action of sleep impossible. Bus windows vibrate whenever the vehicle draws to a halt, train window ledges are too narrow to perch an elbow and there was, believe it or not, talk of transmitting adverts through the windows of trains that would be amplified by the bones in your head when you leaned on it But the type of sleep that I have no time for is the one that comes in the mid afternoon when your head starts nodding as your brain decides it wants to switch off. Sometimes there is just no fighting it and the only option is to sink down into your chair and let your eyes close, but at others it is a constant battle not to be overcome. Every time this happens to me Herself always says “why don’t you just go and lie down for a while” and the answer is actually very simple. What I hate isn’t so much the fact of falling asleep during the day, although it is a classic sign that I am Getting Older – what I hate is the way I feel afterwards. Every time this happens to me I wake up feeling sick to the stomach, my head full of shadows that take at least 20 minutes to clear. A Hot Beverage (being British this has to be Tea) will sometimes help, but mostly there is nothing to do but ride the wave and try to come out the other side with your shower cap still firmly in place (so to speak) It makes me dread the day when I am truly old and have nothing to do but sit in a chair and snooze in between being patronised by people - although given this possible future I might have no choice but to become a Rambler or, even worse, a Morris Dancer in my dotage (old age is the right time for growing scraggly beards and dancing around a maypole bashing sticks together and waving handkerchiefs in the air) So if anyone has a good tip to avoid falling asleep during the day, or even for waking up without feeling like one has been dragged through a cess pit – please do let me know PS - my apologies for the formatting of this post: i seem to be having account problems

It Must Be Thursday: A Review of Some Things

The ongoing saga of a weekly That-Was-The-Week-That-Was posting.

Commenting on things that caught my attention for better or for worse and left me shaking my fist at the sky and shouting "Whyyyy!!!" 

After all: until science brings us a better use for Thursdays - what else is there to do?

Cast your minds back a while to my most recent film review will remember that I promised to bring you my thoughts on Man Of Steel which I had every intention of getting to see whilst it was on the big screen

Sadly time and tide have defeated me and I just haven't had the time to get to the flicks and now it seems to have finished.

My life has been rather hectic as of late: spent travelling, working, travelling and then recovering with hectic weekends trying to squeeze some free moments into - hence my current absence from blogland, which i hope to solve once i get a computer that i can use on the move

So instead of the aforementioned review of MoS I will attempt to bring you some other reviews.  There might be five of them but then again probably not.

#1: Bruce Springsteen Live (Concert)
A couple of years ago I made the decision not to go and see Brucie when he toured with his Seeger Sessions band firstly because I hadn't heard the album and knew that he was mostly doing songs from that period and secondly because I wanted to see him with the full E Street Band.  This, having heard the live album of the tour, was a mistake as the tour was definately unmissable - only I did.

So when The Boss announced a gig in my hometown with the full E Street ensembe I knew that I had to go regardless of the extremely steep charge of the ticket

It was a day where the weather was busy ominizing: dark clouds scudding across the sky and threatening to let loose their heavy load - indeed as we walked down towards the open air arena it was already trying to rain.  Fortunately it held off and even threatened to clear entirely.

On this particular tour, The Wrecking Ball tour, the evening is divided almost equally into three: the first hour is a combination of a set list and a requests section, with Bruce picking signs requesting specific songs from the audience and showing them to the band - which they then proceeded to play.  The second hour was an album from start to finish (we got Born To Run) and then finally a third hour of mainly greatest hits

Having just looked up Mr Springsteen on wikipedia I find that he is only a few years younger than my dad and should probably be requesting his free bus pass - and yet where many older rockers seem to be going through the motions of a pre-ordained "this is the bit where i pick someone out of the audience" ritual (U2 and The Rolling Stones I'm looking at you) Brucie managed to make all the improvised bits look, well...improvised.

I'm a big Bruce Springsteen fan and consider the man to be a poet so am naturally biased, but Argent (who went with me as more of a Springsteen virgin) was suitably impressed and remarked both on the tightness of the band, the energy and the accessibility of the music.

True - with it being a stadium gig the sound quality wasn't great, but if you get a chance to see the man in action then you really should take it whilst you can.

#2: Bruce Springsteen: Tunnel Of Love (album)
Whilst on the subject of Brucie I've been enjoying something of a Springsteen-a-thon on my way home recently, listening to each studio album in chronological order until I have reached this mid 80s effort which was the first Springsteen album I ever heard, but equally had not heard again since.

I was lent it by a friend just shortly after it came out and can remember not being that impressed and I have to say that time and a revisit have done little to change that opinion.  The problem is that for some reason at this point in his career he decided to ditch his trademark sound of guitars, gutsy saxophones and working man lyrics and go for an almost entirely keyboard led album that reeks of the sort of over production that makes the 80s infamous.  The best song of the album is Brilliant Disguise, but the work as a whole lacks soul and depth and is a million miles behind any of his high water marks.

Still, and possibly inevitably, whenever i think of Springsteen it is always the cover of this album, with him leaning on the bonnet of a white cadillac resplendent in suit and bootlace tie, that comes to mind.

#3: Much Ado About Nothing (film)
What do you do when you've just finished the biggest blockbuster special effects movie of your career and have two weeks off before you start making the TV series?  Well, if you're creative genius Joss Whedon then the answer is that you call up all your friends and say "Hey, come round to my house and we'll make Shakespeare with the iambic pentameters and everything"

The result is a black and white, slightly out of time rendition of one of The Bard's better known comedies in which any fan of Whedon's work won't be able to resist pointing at the screen and saying "Eh, isn't that whats-his-name from Buffy/Firefly"

As with all my reviews I shall try not to give any spoilers away other than to say that after 5 minutes or so you get used to the dialogue and find yourself immersed in an entirely believable and slightly claustrophobic world.  Top plaudits should go to Nathan Fillion who steals every scene he appears in as well as to the two main leads of Amy Acker and Alexis Denisof who hold the piece together extremely well.

The only negative i can find is the two perplexing flashback sequences, which at least on first viewing leave you wondering exactly when they are happening and what they are supposed to signify.

#4: The 100 Most Pointless Things In The World (book)
I feel sad for those of you in other countries that have never had the joy of watching the TV game show "Pointless"

The formula is this: comedian Alexander Armstrong (and why is it, btw, that game show hosts are always comedians here?) and all round clever person Richard Osman invite four teams of two to answer questions on a number of topics - with the twist that they must find the answer that the least people thought of, thus showing that they know something more than the average Joe Public whilst aiming to score the lowest of the contestants or achieve finding something that no one else knew - ie a "pointless" answer

It is arguably the Blockbusters of the 2010s - IE a game show at approx 5pm that has gathered a cult following and deservedly so

So when I saw the book on sale during a low moment at the train station I picked up a copy expecting good things - however, it was not what I had hoped for.

What I had hoped was that I would find some of the topics that people had known the least about listed inside accompanied by an interesting, but ultimately useless, fact about said thing.  Instead it was a list of 100 things that Alexander and Richard found irritating or pointless that, whilst amusing in its own right, was ever so slightly pointless (to coin a phrase)

#5: The 3G Apple I-phone
One of the things that came with my new job, along with endless commuting, was a works i-phone. 

I've never owned anything by Apple before unless you count a couple of cans of Strongbow (cider) and a few Beatles albums...(yeah, ok, you got me - both different kinds of apple) - largely because I don't use my phone anywhere near enough to justify the exorbitent monthly charge of having any i-gadgets

The main reason I have it is to call/receive calls from people who I am working with and to receive emails on the move thus making me a "modern and dynamic employee" and as far as it goes the i-phone is perfectly fine.  It has a much longer battery life than most phones i've used, possibly due to the 1-D graphics and seems to be of comparable quality to other phones and has even led to me listening to podcasts for the first time

But the one area where it annoys the hell out of me is the amount of things that need to be done in co-ordination with other i-gadgets.

Take, for instance, putting a favourite song as a ringtone.  Now this is something that i expect to be able to do as a standard thing on my phone - with my personal phone I can go onto any tune-purchasing website, download the song to my phone, stick it in a certain folder and then set it as a ringtone - done in two seconds without any fuss.  With the i-phone i can still download, albiet grudgingly, from any site i want - but i then need to get a ring-tone converter from i-tunes, chose which 30 seconds of the song i want to set, go home to my PC and log into i-tunes, connect my phone to my PC and somehow (i still haven't figured this bit out yet) co-ordinate the i-tunes on my computer with my phone and ONLY THEN somehow magically get a small fragment of said song set as my ringtone.  Call that technology on the move?  I don't.

#6: The Chap Who Delivers The Metro Newspaper To The Train Station (usually about 2 minutes after I've crossed to the other side)
Aah The Metro - a kind of smorgasbord of news that no one else could be bothered to print, available in train stations and busses across the land for free and then, shortly afterwards, abandoned on seats and floors for people to trip over.  Full of worryingly adult content for something that is readily available to be picked up by any given five-year-old travelling on public transport and an endless source of unintentional humour

About twice a week the aforementioned Chap manages to deliver the magazine before I cross over, meaning that I can flick through the pages just quick enough to a) catch my train and b) avoid losing too many IQ points and his method of delivery is to screech to a halt at the station, climb out with two big bundles in hand and throw them with abandon at the locked door of the station master not even pausing to remove the two strips that keep them bundled together.

This has been causing me endless frustration as it meant that I had to prize out my copy from underneath the straps, often ruffling or even tearing it (both of which stress me for reasons I can't quite explain) until this morning when - late as ever - I watched from the other side of the tracks as another passenger inadvertantly showed me how to remove the straps without a pocket knife or the necessessity of losing fingertips.

Still, come on mate - would it really hurt you to put them down carefully and remove the strap?  Probably yes...

It Must Be Thursday: Five Useless Things About Trains

The ongoing saga of a weekly That-Was-The-Week-That-Was posting.

Commenting on things that caught my attention for better or for worse and left me shaking my fist at the sky and shouting "Whyyyy!!!" 

After all: until science brings us a better use for Thursdays - what else is there to do?

Well folks, I'm still without a computer to call my own and as there haven't exactly been people banging down my door saying "Hey Pixie, where are your posts" I've been taking a break until such time as a good idea popped around to my door, let itself in and made me a nice refreshing cup of tea.

My life over the past couple of weeks has mostly involved travelling on trains which has inspired me to create one of my much sought after list of fives that never add up to five.  This time its things on trains that annoy, frustrate, or are down right pointless

#1 Train Announcements
Don't get me wrong here, having an announcement - automated or not - at every station is generally a Good Idea.  What I object to is the train guard coming onto the tannoy five seconds later and telling you what Automated Lady told you five seconds ago, then the Automated Lady coming on again to tell you once more incase you were too stupid to get it the first two times

Enough with the announcements already - once when we are about to leave and once when we are about to arrive is enough.

Although, to be fair, the train announcer who announced the following probably deserves some kind of prize:
"Ladies and gentlemen we would like to apologize for the fact that it's Monday morning.  The problem has been reported to management and we expect it to be resolved in about four and a half hours"

#2  Trying To Sleep
It can't be done.  Firstly because of the endless announcements which seem to be specifically timed to shout at you over the tannoy just as you are dozing off and secondly because of the seats. The train seats are specifically designed so that there is no way to put your head back without suffering some spinal injury, that the wall is too far away to support your head at an angle without the same result and that the window ledge is too thin to rest your arm on to support your head.  Plus if you DO decide to place your bag on your lap, rest your shoulder on the contents and your face on the palm of your hand (resulting in a suspicious looking red mark on your face) you risk the ever-embarrassing headbutt as you nod off into the person sitting next to you

#3 Ticket Booking Sites
If you were too look on the train website you could be easily convinced that every day for the past couple of weeks I have been breaking the laws of physics and performing an impossible journey - BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU LOOK THEY DON'T TELL YOU ABOUT IT.

Usually you will find that the website tells you one, or maybe two, routes which they consider to be the fastest.  They won't necessarily be the most economic or the best one for you and the only way to find these out is via a series of trial and investigations that would leave Sherlock Holmes whimpering in a corner.  Plus the savings are mostly imaginary or only available if you can afford to buy the £12,000,000 ticket that works out a whole 50p cheaper

#4 Too Many First Class Carriages 
Anyone who has ever travelled on a high speed train in England will know the pain of standing in a train corridor for an hour because there are no seats, or be familiar with the smell of wet armpit on the subway.  But what is particularly galling is that all of the people standing could easily sit in relative comfort (well, as comfortable as train seats can be) if they just took one, just ONE, of the totally empty first class compartments and replaced it with another second class one.  Yes, I know that they charge twice as much for the privilege of having half a train to yourself - but simple maths alone should tell you that a full carriage will still earn you more than an empty one at twice the price.

#5 Train Station Prices
There are few places less lovely than a train station forecourt.  They are full of the noise of endless announcements and the smell of desperate people ready to jump over each other to grab one quarter of a seat should the arrivals board ever prove to have more than a passing resemblance to reality.  So what else can they do to make you miserable and take even more money from you: yes, that's right, allow a chain store to move in and sell you expensive chocolate, coffee, cold pastries and wetsuits (if anyone can explain to me why motorway service stations 400 miles away from the nearest puddle and train stations have suddenly started selling scuba gear please let me know)

Of course the smart person walks around the corner to the kiosk outside where everything is priced as per usual, but then rail executives know all too well that a person in a train station is a Person On The Edge, and therefore gullible

#6 Annoying Kids Making Endless Beep Beep Noises with the latest Gadget-o-thon
Don't think I really need  to argue this one very hard, other than to say that I was once an extremely annoying child - and to anyone who met me on what were the permanently broken down trains of my youth when I used to carry my magic tricks around everywhere - I am deeply, deeply sorry.

However, that does NOT excuse the kids that sit with their Nintendo DeeplyStressing machine turned to full volume

Anything I missed, please let me know

It Must Be Thursday: The High Street We Deserve?

The ongoing saga of a weekly That-Was-The-Week-That-Was posting.

Commenting on things that caught my attention for better or for worse and left me shaking my fist at the sky and shouting "Whyyyy!!!" 

After all: until science brings us a better use for Thursdays - what else is there to do?

I can just about remember shops that specialized.  Little corner shops that would order you something in if they didn't have it, sweet shops that would weigh out a pound of gobstoppers, little electric shops where a chap in a brown overcoat would locate some solder and a 9" screwdriver from a dusty shelf.  Butchers and Bakers who would cut your meat or wrap your loaf of brown bread for you while you waited

There was even a greengrocers shop at the end of the road, next to the hairdresser who looked like Benny Hill.

Now, of course, we live in a fast paced world where we don't seem to have the time or patience to go to specialist shops - we want everything under one roof and we want it cheap and thus the supermarkets are doing a much better job of taking over the high streets than any invading army ever did.

Not that small shops don't exist - they are still out there, but in my view they are missing a trick by failing to offer the personal service that is missing in a big sell-it-all shop.

For instance - at the moment I am looking for a tablet computer, as I will shortly be without the laptop that I have been using to write these blogs with - something that I can use on the move for reading, something that can be used with a keyboard so I can write and something that can store and allow me to play with music apps - but getting clear advice on which one is the one for me is a pain.

Lets take an imaginary shop and call them: PC Supermarket - this is a shop that sells TVs, laptops, fridges, printers, ink cartridges, stereos - but inevitably the staff, as a result, are mostly focused on sales and don't actually know a great deal more about it than you do

So surely there is a gap in the market for the small specialist shop that only sells laptops and tablets where you can go and get proper, informed, advice.  You'd think so, wouldn't you - but the few that I have tried so far are no better than the corporate giants

It's like earlier this year I was looking for some new music equipment - a home recording box to replace my old and battered tape system - but when I went into the local music shop the response was "none of us really do any home recording"

Not the most helpful response and not one designed to inspire confidence in the idea of future custom at that venue

Maybe this is a British thing, but my general experience of small shops is that they are generally run by people who seem to show nothing but disdain for their customers - especially in the face of a question , people who despite living what is presumably their dream job of owning a company that reflects a life-long passion seem to be longing for death and will only grudgingly take your money.  Musicians are particularly bad for this as the moment that you walk into their private guitar show room they stare at you like you are from another planet.

So come on guys - given the opportunity I'd much rather support the small businessman and would cheerfully take my hard earned money to a place that I can rely on - just give me some proper help when I need it

(NB: in the interrim period whilst I obtain a new machine there may be a break from blogging - please bear with me and normal service will be resumed as soon as possible)

It Must Be Thursday: Health & Safety Gone Mad

The ongoing saga of a weekly That-Was-The-Week-That-Was posting.

Commenting on things that caught my attention for better or for worse and left me shaking my fist at the sky and shouting "Whyyyy!!!" 

After all: until science brings us a better use for Thursdays - what else is there to do?

Ever fancied throwing yourself down an extremely steep hill in a frantic and pointless attempt to catch a runaway cheese?

Well, despite my addiction to cheese, neither have I.

My addiction is near legendary in our house and Herself lives in constant fear that I will notice there is no cheese in the house and, in a state of panic, either strip naked and run down the street yelling that the end is nigh or else turn to a slightly less addictive substance - such as crack cocaine

Fortunately neither of these things has happened so far, but for those of you who do enjoy the prospect of endangering life and limb there is the annual Cheese rolling event in Gloucestershire

Every year since time immemorial (which was, apparently, the very precise date of 6 July 1189 - although in reality the cheese rolling hasn't been going on THAT long) someone throws a truckle of cheese down Cooper's Hill and hundreds of people throw themselves down afterwards - often resulting in flying head over heels and broken limbs.

Like many traditions in England it's hard to say exactly why they started doing this in the first place, but like so many daft things we now do it because (drum roll please) IT'S TRADITIONAL

That is until 2013 when, after 25 years of supplying the cheese to the event, local Police turned up to cheesemaker Diana Smart's house and warned her that should anyone be injured, maimed or killed in the event then she could be liable for any claims of compensation.

Now the first thing you need to know about Diana Smart is that she is an elderly lady, in her mid to late 80s - so I guess you can imagine how she must have felt when the Police turned up unannounced and issued dire warnings.  The second thing you need to know is that the Smart family do not organize the event - they merely supply the cheese.

As it happens the Smarts were so worried about the warning that they withdrew their involvement, forcing event organizers to supply a fake cheese (not actually the first time that this has been done, as during the rationing of WW2 a wooden replacement was used)

But two things occur to me.

Firstly - if I were a judge in a case for compensation and I heard that injuries were sustained "running headlong down a steep hill after a rolling cheese" I think my response would be "Well, you brought it on yourself then, didn't you"

Secondly - I recently put myself in for a charity run and had to sign forms in triplicate saying that if I died mid-route then I couldn't hold the organizers responsible (from what I understood from the form this extended to "even if we happen to run you over in a support truck" - which I guess gives them something to do if they get bored with marshalling) - so why can't the cheese rolling event get the contestants to do the same?

But what saddens me the most is that we now seem to live in a society where we are constantly told that we are entitled to compensation for everything that could possibly happen - every time I turn on the TV I see an advert for AmbulanceChasers4U telling me that if I fall over at work, drop boiling hot soup on my shirt, get hit by another driver or am involved in a freak yodeling accident (more common than you might think) than I can sue, sue, sue until my name is changed, by deed poll, to Sue.

I'm sure that there are instances where someone is injured through neglect and due compensation so that they can continue to live to a good standard, but I am concerned that what it leaves us with is a society where everyone is looking to assign blame and far too many companies are looking to make a nice profit into the bargain

And as for the cheese rolling - well, even though it seems like insanity to me I hope it continues without litigation and that a real truckle can be found for future events.

Oh...and when you're finished with it - just clean it up and post it to me would you?  Cheers.

(NB: For anyone wondering about the image - it's the Don't Sue People Panda)