A Clapham Common run to start Friday. SW4 was busy with other runners and cyclists at 7am. It’s such a magical space. Apart from the shitty cars, natch.
Some fella around Clapham South looked like he was Glasto bound with his wellies and multiple rucksacks. Either that or he was off fishing for the weekend.
A young lady back down toward Clapham North had a sun umbrella. I always find these a little odd.
It was a long run - not so much in distance, but it felt that it took all morning to complete the 8km
I had to get a shifty on. I had an appointment with a man who was looking at the possibility of fitting a water metre in the flat.
I say possibility - this was always going to be a non-starter. I knew this before he arrived.
The conversion of the house to flats in the early 80’s was a classic bodge job. All four stop cocks for the four flats are in the basement building.
But the only way to get put on the Thames Water assessed tariff is to get Mr Metre Man round so he can say - nope, can’t fit a metre. Let’s put you on the assessed rate.
Album of the Day: Boston - Boston
I could have played More Than a Feeling and left it at that. ‘Cos that’s Boston’s career, right? Boston sound like a band from the fag end of the 60’s that didn’t quite grasp the new. This limps along after the opener. One extra star for More Than a Feeling.
⭐ ⭐
Most of Friday was then spent indoors working. I clocked two fellas in quick succession running down South Lambeth Road, bare chested. I’ve never had the desire or need for this.
I drifted in and out of Glasto action. The Lightning Seeds were great! They’ve got hit after hit with their back catalogue. I remember my last Glasto experience in ’97. It was raining all morning on the Friday. On came the Seeds, out came the sun.
I switched to Billy Nomates, and then Texas. That was quite a culture clash.
My watch pinged saying another batch of reggae 12″s have been sold. I’m not convinced that I feel flush enough to now spend £8 on the Duck Rock CD - that I don’t really need.
To The Globe! …early Friday evening. Comedy of Errors was the slapstick production of choice at the Wooden O.
The cycle journey over towards Ldn Bridge was characterised by dudes riding FAT tyre bicycles. These seem to be something of a thing for the summer of 2023. There’s no such thing as a bad bicycle, but FAT tyre bicycles are not really necessary in the city.
Some yoof behind me at Borough pulled a wheelie on his MTB. I let him pass me and didn’t give him a second look.
Bankside was buzzing. I arrived at The Globe with ten minutes to spare. It was a fast-paced production. Cod pieces featured heavily.
Once again one of the lead actors was unavailable, leading to a very competent understudy reading the part.
An annoying helicopter buzzed overhead for around five minutes during a rare quiet scene. There was no interval. The performance ended exactly two hours after it started.
I passed the Friday Night Rollerskating crowd on the bicycle ride home. I didn’t realise these dudes are still going.
There was some appalling cycling from some fella riding a fixie around the Elephant. Profanities were exchanged.
I don’t get Artic Monkeys.
