Sunday, 12 August 2007

My Sunday

Following Friday's ever-so restrained night of excess I slept for four hours on Saturday morning, and planned on having a very long, satisfying sleep the following night, of the kind that you just don't get any more. So, I started watching Mike Leigh's All or Nothing on BBC2 at about 10:40 but after 20 minutes decided that I just couldn't hack it - even for a Mike Leigh film - and beetled off to bed.

Only to be woken at about 7:50 by Elderly Neighbour's Greco-Cockney friend, who has a tight blonde perm, wears ill-advised pink boob tubes, and has a voice like Harry Enfield doing Stavros; "Aw, just lookit your plants innit," she boomed over the back gardens. "Ow is you gettin your lemon tree so boo'iful? Jesis Christ, Mary, an lookit them rahses, innit, dey is aww pink!"

Mary's garden is indeed boo'iful, and she does indeed have a little lemon tree that, admirably for North London, has about three little, approximately testicle-sized lemons dangling from its branches. She also has roses (pink ones) and - not being particularly green-fingered myself - what I think might be a begonia.

But at 8 in the morning, I don't like hearing it appraised. And in a voice that could teach Brian Blessed something about projection.


After a few days off, spent a good hour at the gym, forty minutes on various training machines followed by some time in the weights room, most of which was spent waiting for one of the machines to come free. When it did, the little jerk who'd been using it - I could tell he was a jerk because he'd put the little peg at an absurdly high weight and was making loud snorting noises like a foghorn enduring a 36-hour labour throughout - then didn't bother wiping down the - by now sweaty - machine. It is lucky I don't have OCD or something.

As it is I am worried I will catch body-builder disease or something. These guys have their own little - muscly - clique and, maybe it's just me, but I can't see how the gym is a social thing. I think the gym is something to be endured to keep up a reasonable level of fitness to be in better shape for the things life throws at you. I like to be in and out in as little time as possible and not to stand around by the machines flexing.

Cycling with your friends is a social activity ... football in the park is a social activity. Gyms are just utilities.

Although in its favour, the muscly clique does seem to be predominantly Arsenal supporting, which given our proximity to Golders Green is a surprise.


An email from the parents, currently driving round the Canadian Rockies - I hope in an open top Mustang - expressed dismay that I wasn't around the other day when they spent the night at a large and strange hotel that put them in mind of The Shining. I don't have the heart to tell them I've never seen that film.

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