secret knowledge of backroads

No Country For Old Men On Motorbikes

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 10 Apr 2010 12:32:00 +0000

It's Britain. It's sunny. It's warm (kinda).

What does that mean?

It means the roads are shit-thick with retired solicitors wobbling around on ill-advised Harleys after they've spent all morning stuffing their diamond-patterned Pringles into some twice-worn leather chaps whilst jamming their whisky-guts behind the zip of their unfortunate Arnie jacket.

Elsewhere, garages have run out of charcoal briquettes and Sainsbury's only have one packet of sausages left, and they're 'quince and rhubarb'.

If you don't mind queueing though, Morrisons have loads of sausages left because, let's face it, their customers don't barbecue whilst there are still chippies open. Morrisons' bangers are skinny and cheap and right next to the slug pellets.

Right I'm off to Simonize my Morgan, before the Masters comes on.

Alliums

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 11:44:00 +0000

Alliums

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 04 Jul 2008 14:10:00 +0000

Alliums
Originally uploaded by backroads on the move

Euston, we have a problem!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 05:16:00 +0000

Euston, we have a problem!
Originally uploaded by backroads on the move

At last! A bench...

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 18:30:00 +0000

At last! A bench...
Originally uploaded by backroads on the move

... opposite the V&A (Cheryl Cole Wing)

and this doesn't help!

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 18:29:00 +0000

and this doesn't help!
Originally uploaded by backroads on the move

I've hurt my back

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 13:34:00 +0000

I've hurt my back
Originally uploaded by backroads on the move

Board

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 24 Jun 2008 21:14:00 +0000

Board
Originally uploaded by backroads on the move

Bored

It's Windy

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 10:32:00 +0000

It's Windy
Originally uploaded by backroads on the move

I pray that something picks me up.

That's the Ticket

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 17:58:00 +0000

That's the Ticket
Originally uploaded by backroads on the move

I've got to 41 and never bought a book of raffle tickets. Until tonight!

BUSTIN' A GUT

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 15 Apr 2008 17:26:00 +0000

I set myself a completely unrealistic target today. I decided that I'd cycle into town (about 7 miles), lock up my bike at the station and then get the train into Manchester. I had a route planned in my head which I'd convinced myself was more or less downhill. Plus, I'd planned to avoid the uphill slog home by catching a local train connection to the station in the next village.

Well, I set off and got less than a mile before the huffing, puffing and the sheer negativity generated by such a relatively modest degree of exercise had got the better of me. I returned home a mess. Now, I do need to lose a few pounds and am not aversed to exercise, I need to get my heart rate up 4 or 5 times a week, but I didn't need to put my heart monitor on to know that the exertion required to coax a mountain bike up and down the pennine terrain was likely to kill me.

I grew up near the seaside and used my bike every single day, riding for miles. But it was all flat! Round here, cycling is an absolute nightmare. You seem to hit an instant wall of self-hate well before any exercise generated endorphins deliver a wave of positivity and euphoria. So the bike's back in the garage. Indefinitely.

By the way, I'd psyched myself up to enjoying a nice train journey avec book and iPod only to be robbed of that by a combination of my own inadequacy and millions of years of volcanic activity rendering the local area a uncyclable(!), by me at least. Therefore, having failed to help myself but determined to help the environment, I drove to the next village to get the train and couldn't get a parking space for love nor money, so instead I spent my usual unproductive hour driving myself and no-one else over the tops and over the top.

HAPPINESS IS A WARM BUN

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 07 Apr 2008 12:17:00 +0000

I saw an article in the paper at the weekend about Timothy Ferriss, who's book 'The Four Hour Work Week' is a runaway success in the USA and is about to land in the UK with attendant promotional hype.

I'm kind of intrigued by the concept of prioritising and outsourcing your activities to the extent that you need only work four hours per week. However, I'm not sure that ramping up my current workload to that extreme would be good for my blood pressure. Which reminds me. The doc's still on at me about a lifestyle change to get my BP down, so today I went and got myself hypnotised in order to stop eating junk. It's working really well so far, although you can take that with half a pinch of lo-salt as I am on a bit of a rush after a Tunnock's caramel wafer.

ANY OLD IRONY

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 04 Apr 2008 13:07:00 +0000

I'm working from home today, which means that I was up dead early in my jimmys crafting a presentation which I'm due to deliver in a couple of weeks, but which needs to be submitted today.

After that, I snuck out to B&Q to return the two excess bags of bark chippings which were surplus to requirements when I was working from home yesterday and covering the garden with the stuff. Then I whipped into Comet for a new iron as our previous one died mid-shirt last night. Now, irons. You can literally spend anything from £3.96 to £396.00 on an iron. Plus the latest thing seems to be a steam generator, which looks something like a normal iron sitting on top of a 1st Generation iMac. I plumped for a generic pink Phillips at £24.99... allegedly half price.

After a decent lunch here I'm now listening to the third Collings and Herrin podcast. I'm working through them in order to catch up. To be honest, they are not so great but it may be because the ones I'm listening to are a few weeks out of date. I listened to the Stephen Fry Podcasts the other day too. The first was very odd and rambly, recorded just after he'd broken his arm whilst filming in South America. The second was an overly scripted rant against dancing and Brits who think American's don't get irony. This rush to podcasting is thrusting people into full-on Prince-style quality v quantity territory. However, they do help me get to sleep.

THAT'S WEIRD, LOVE

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 02 Apr 2008 09:25:00 +0000

Tottering through WHSmith yesterday I did a double-take whilst walking through the books department. They have a section called Paranormal Romance, stuffed with paperbacks sporting dark, mysterious and vaguely gothic looking women on their covers.

Intrigued, I spent the next few minutes for other new categories. I was particularly interested in Psychedelic Business Studies or Ergonomic Crime, but not there I'm afraid.

SO TIRED

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 19 Mar 2008 09:22:00 +0000

Monday night. Made juvenile schoolboy error of starting to watch Lewis in bed. He wasn't in bed, you understand. I was. Anyway, I made it as far as the first adverts before starting to snore. Mrs Backroads watched it all and doesn't want to watch it again. Doh!

Last night. Started to watch the Bionic Woman in bed. She wasn't in bed, you understand. Which is a shame. Anyway, made it to second adverts before nodding off.

Tonight, I'm going to attempt to catch up with Lost.

TONIGHT'S THE (LADIES) NIGHT

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 06 Mar 2008 11:54:00 +0000

If you were at last night's Neil Young show at the Hammersmith Odeon, I was the arse who shouted "Oi! Atomic Mutton! Sit the fuck down!" at the three dozy birds dancing in the aisles and blocking the view for half the circle.

Tip jar's below.

WELL IT'S NOT RAZZLE

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 04 Mar 2008 10:40:00 +0000

Right then, cheesemonkeys, I've been Blogwhipped by Kid Afmip. Here's the deal:

Find the nearest book and type out sentences six, seven and eight from page 123.

I can do that:

The distillery, with its curiously anthologous architecture, is in a very visible spot on the road with a heavy tourist traffic, but relatively distant from any other distilleries. Its regional appropriation to the western Highlands is supported by its being close to a sea loch. "We are a coastal distillary" insists manager Colin Ross, standing in front of the mighty mountain.

It's from Michael Jackson's Malt Whisky Companion and relates to 'Ben Nevis' as produced by Ben Nevis Distillery Ltd.

FYI, its house style is:

Fragrant. Robust. Waxy fruitiness. Tropical Fruit. Oily, a touch of smoke. Restorative or book-at-bedtime.

So now you know.

There's no point me nutmegging anyone else, cos no-one reads this anymore.

THE DAMNED IPHONE

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 11 Jan 2008 10:52:00 +0000

You know how user interfaces on computers work in films, don't you? Y'know, all instantly loading web pages and smoothly animated transitions between one screen and the next. Well that's how the iPhone actually works. Yes, yes, I know there are phones out there with better cameras, with cut and paste, with more bluetooth capabilities and 3G, but make no mistake, the iPhone is a thing of beauty.

I've dumped Orange to get an iPhone on O2. The biggest chunk of my bill was always data, as I browse compulsively... news... sport... gossip... sauce... whatever. Now I get this all bundled in, and at great speed when I'm at home on wifi or out and about on free networks.

It has YouTube built in too. I have always dumped YouTube in with the likes of MySpace and Facebook as being dumb, ugly and not for me, but on the iPhone it is stripped of it's tatty website and is easily searchable for videos which load quickly and play fullscreen without any faff.

The iPod and iTunes store also work great, with videos looking crisp and clear. Eric Prydz has never been so popular. Also it is worth the investment in better headphones. I paid a small fortune for these, but they are worth it (plus they have a built in mic for handsfree calling).

The touch screen works like a little version of the computers in Minority Report, particularly when browsing or looking at photos as you scoot things around the screen, easily zooming in and out. It also knows which way up you are holding the device and automatically switches the picture around on screen for you which is absolutely great except for when you want to particularly study the latest Lindsay Lohan upskirt blunder and it keeps turning her the right way up.

What else...? I have received Coupland's Everything's Gone Green on DVD but not watched it yet. jPod is being made into a sitcom and I've been perusing the trailer.

I spent my Christmas Waterstones vouchers on these three books and am half way through The Damned United. Get it read.

Lastly, the doc tells me I have high blood pressure and need a lifestyle change. I haven't changed it yet.

REVISIONISM

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 20 Dec 2007 11:45:00 +0000

I read this thing on Andrew Collins' blog about him getting a call from a mate at the Telegraph and being asked to knock up a 1200 word piece about some fluff in about an hour to get into the the following morning's paper, which he did. I was quite impressed and thought, well if he can do that, then I can at least write a few lines of drivel for this blog.

I've tidied away some of those 'YouTube posts for the lazy blogger'.... they really can make your site look a mess. Social networking sites and video sites like myspace and YouTube are so ugly. I don't get it. Perhaps I shouldn't.

I've just been taking pictures of the village children getting their presents from Father Christmas. He was a bit rubbish, frankly. I could do a better job. I have the physique and I reckon that even I could wear a beard so that the moustache was below my nose and not hovering just below my eyes. Anyway, the kids didn't seem to notice as they were handed some tat to open.

Last night was Snicket's Christmas play in the church. The teachers thought it'd be a good idea to put the big kids at the front and the tiniest ones right at the back, behind the table upon which a chubby girl dressed as Scrooge spent most of the time lying down. Therefore, photo-opportunities were scarce. Even standing up on the rear-most pew with my longest lens, the pic above was the best I got just as he was leaving the church... and this was the evening session. Mrs B had come home in tears after the morning performance and even had words with the Head. Made no difference... but Snicket enjoyed singing the Fezziwig Rock and Roll in the trumped up version of Christmas Carol which they were butchering.

I obviously haven't blogged for ages so here's a quick catch-up. Saw Richard Thompson twice, saw Kate Rusby twice, saw the Wedding Present, saw Crowded House (I know), saw Squeeze. Didn't see Battles. Went to Disneyland Paris, entire family ill for duration, sparrow hit windscreen on return home. Went to Amsterdam again. Bought more vinyl. Went to the ballet. Got one of these.

Looking forward now, it's nearly Christmas and work is quieting down nicely. The Family Backroads is done and dusted shopping and wrapping-wise and we have six Christmas trees!!

BLESS

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 02 Aug 2007 14:18:00 +0000

I got to the end of the book that mustn't be named. It was alright.

I went to see Amy MacDonald last night at The Plug. She was very good after the worthy but dull support acts. I think she needs to ditch the songs she wrote five years ago and but otherwise she is as a button. Did Mr Brightside too.

I shouldn't have had the chilli burger here beforehand... it's still bouldering around inside me somewhere.

The Plug is a pokey hole, so it'll be entertaining to see how Richard Thompson and band squeeze in next week.

The whole of Sheffield is a construction site. I have been in and out of Sheffield a million times in a million different directions but had to admit defeat in the end and get the Sat Nav out. Came home over Strines Moor in the end. Sort of like Middle Earth as imagined by Compo and Clegg.

Have you been here yet? Or seen this?

The New Order situation is getting out of hand too. These ramblings are Hooky's post in sobriety!! It's all very Spinal Tap.

DETERMINING GAPLESS INFORMATION

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 25 Jul 2007 11:07:00 +0000

Up and out early yesterday for a pitch to the client. Went pretty well and quick too, giving me an extra few minutes to continue relighting my fire for actual fact interesting music. Strolled to Oldham Street and to Piccadilly Records which I have followed around Manchester over the years. I could spend all day in there. I got some great records. Studio’s West Coast album hase just been re-released on 2x45 and it is big and fat and great. Map of Africa are interesting too… but one of the best is a great mix CD from Sweden’s Prins Thomas who successfully squidges Boards of Canada and Hawkwind onto the same disc.

Then, before leaving town, I have a little time to go to the Hacienda exhibition at Urbis. Very, very good. Happy/sad memories for me and for many others I expect. I desperately want a pair of Fac 51 Y3s, but at £345 for one of 250 pairs I don’t think it’ll happen. The only thing I don’t get and never have is Miranda Sawyer. Why is she?

Back into work and driving off to another grimy northern town listening to Prins. A fun meeting which was also a bit nostalgic as it was about web layouts, colour ways, intuitive navigation, click-throughs, etc. It was just like the ecommerce wars of the 1990s all over again.

Back home to find that the wife and kids have left me. Great!

They’ve gone camping in someone’s garden in the next village. So after a listen to my new records I take the dog for a drag in the first evening sunshine we’ve seen since April and go visit the family. Not a step does that dog walk and I have to heave him all the way. (On the way home though, he trots along like butter wouldn’t melt. Nice puppies!)

The family are set up in a big eight man ubertent. Brownsea Island it ain’t. I pump their beds up, have a glass of wine and off I go.

At home I get to play music really loud without being told off and read some more of the book that mustn’t be named. I also watch Nick Lowe from BBC4 the other night. Really great… and he’s only 85 you know.

THAT’S NOT GINGER CAKE SON, IT’S PARKIN

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 23 Jul 2007 14:56:00 +0000

Something of a washout today. Up at 5am to get ready for the 6 o’clock train to the smoke. The bleary eyed chap in the mirror looked a good ten years older than me. Still, caught the train. Too awake now to properly doze so got the book that must not be named out of my bag. Most of the other passengers seemed to be reading the same thing except for those who, somewhat sniffily, were pointedly reading something else. Bet they save it for when they are tucked up in bed. I was hoping to get the adult cover, you know the one with Hermione in a hippogriff-skin unitard on the front, but they didn’t have any in the crate when I annexed ASDA. I was going in for four of their bargain-basement loss-leading fiver-a-copy jobs, but it was limited to two per customer so I had to go in a second time in disguise. I swapped socks. Why four? One for me, one for Mrs B, one for Alley and one for Mrs B’s sister. Alley reckons she’s already finished it, but I don’t think that’s possible in just a day, especially when most of it’s been spent running up the phone bill.

Anyway, I’d just got to the bit where XXX XXX XXXXX snuffs it when the train ground to a halt. And that was that. Line problems. No more London. Get off here at Grantham and go home. So I did. Took me ages and now I’m knackered and have had a complete waste of a day.

To be honest I haven’t got over racing to complete my last book in order to ready myself for the book that must not be named. It was the third Andrew Collins autobiography and, to my mind, the least satisfying. It follows his last fifteen or twenty years as he fails to really get into any of his dream jobs. It all seems so unsatisfactory. By the end I’d lost sympathy a bit. I thought I’d check up on him at 6music only to find that he’s quit that job now. Stickability, that’s what you need Collins, you fly-by-night. Stickability, like what Maconie’s got. Anyway, good look with your talking head work.

Of course, like all right minded sorts, I’ve been spending a lot of time listening to The All Day Breakfast Show and can heartily recommend it, especially to those who listened to Morning Edition before Radio Five became Live. I can especially recommend the episode entitled Dump, Chubby, Trolleys, Dim-Sum and Ark as I am on it. I even let Danny Baker get a word in.

I have recently been investing in my mid-life crisis, by replacing a lot of CDs purchased over the last twenty years or so with vinyl LP copies. Perverse, maybe, but it’s so exciting when a 12” mailer envelope arrives at the door. Oh, and coloured vinyl still gives me a semi. The downside to this activity is that I can’t sneak new purchases into the house as easily. Mrs B caught me red handed the other day with my Excellent Italian Greyhound tucked under an arm.

Perhaps I should get a job as a DJ, then it’d be so much easier to bring my work home with me. Not as far-fetched as it sounds. Got another request to do a kids’ party the other day by another local milf who had heard about the legendary DJ Dad’s Halloween play-outs. No-one can segue the Hokey Cokey into Disturbance at the Heron House quite like me.

The dog’s settling down now, thanks for asking. Mind you, he’s knackering my new lawn. Can’t seem to understand the purpose of going out for a walk, so he saves his business for the garden when he gets back. Although, it’s not only the toileting aspect of walking he hasn’t grasped, it’s the actual walking bit. Which is fairly fundamental to going for a walk I find. It’s more accurate to say that we tend to take him out for a drag. We were told that they’re a lazy breed, but blimey. I have fetch his slippers for him.

Time for a brew. We’ve gone all loose leaf in this house. No more bags for us. Have you seen what they put in sausages?

SUPERFI

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 20 Jun 2007 11:52:00 +0000

I'm up and down from the loft a lot at the moment. Why? Well because I only got a turntable for Father's Day didn't I? Fantastic. So I am unleashing my records on the Family Backroads bIt by bit. On rifling through, there's a lot of crap, but some great stuff too.

I also spent a little time browsing the minimal amount of vinyl on sale today. I picked up the latest Wilco which cost a fortune but comes with a CD too. The tracks are split across two LPs each weighing about the same as a dustbin lid, but they sound great.

I reckon this is better than buying a motorbike to celebrate middle age, don't you?

RECEPTION

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 01 Jun 2007 10:47:00 +0000

Sitting in a corporate HQ’s reception area whilst tapping away at a PC is a bit like wearing an invisibility cloak. Everyone thinks your doing some last minute prep for a meeting before someone comes to collect you whereas, in fact, you are drafting an entry from your blog and watching the world go by. You should try it.

Right now it’s 1.50 pm, so there’s a general drift of people returning to work after a stroll round the city. However, there’s still a steady stream of folk heading out into the sunshine. Where are they going at this time of day?

I think the lady next to me on the leather couch is here for an interview as she’s poring over a CV, which I’m guessing is her own. She looks smart in an ordinary way. However, her shoes are semi-porn star, patent leather slingbacks in a deep cherry with high soles and heels. I’m wondering how this will affect her chances. Depends on the interviewer I suppose.

I spot a couple of my own colleagues waggling their passes through the electronic turnstiles. They fail to see me and I don’t make myself known, other then by sending a text to one of them saying that she looks good in green.

There’s a shelving unit with a load of corporate magazines on it directly behind my seat. One of the receptionists has just taken it upon herself to restock it and it’s making me feel uncomfortable and paranoid. I always prefer to have my back to the wall, as does Mrs Backroads. However, I always concede this position to her whenever we visit a restaurant. This means that there’s often a niggling feeling of discomfort in the back of my mind when I am out for dinner with my lovely wife, but I do this because I love her and because she’d get a monk on if I didn’t.

Somebody’s PA came and collected interview-girl. I’m guessing, therefore, that she’s being interviewed by someone execcy. This raises the chances of it being a man in this organisation but certainly doesn’t rule out a woman sizing her up. I wonder if she’ll get the job?

TRACTOR RAPE CHAIN

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 29 May 2007 04:52:00 +0000

I'll often pass a few idle moments coming up with song titles for the once great, now extinct, Guided By Voices. They clearly don't need them any longer and, for that matter, didn't need my help coming up with them in the first place. Nevertheless, it's as addictive as Sudoku. True, it's hard to beat things like Christian Animation Torch Carriers, Jellyfish Reflector and Sunfish Holy Breakfast, but still worth a go.

There's even an online GBV song title generator so you can have a go yourself.

Alternatively, just pick up the latest catalogue from Lakeland. It's full of strong contenders for Bob Pollard's canon:

Hands Free Universal Pan Strainer
Heat Diffuser
Ten Fat Trappers
Swan Neck Turner
Electric Knife Wizard
Mermaid Hard Anodised Flan Tins, and my personal favourite,
Nut Chopper