Words of Waldman

Wishing you a (belated) Merry Xmas, and a great new year

Apologies, final days before Christmas got rather frantic, planning for both family stuff, and a little holiday.
Anyway, currently down Surrey, about to head off later today to California, for a few days ski-ing (they've just had 3ft of snow fall) in Tahoe, and then to San Francisco for New Year.
Given the combination of early morning due to jet lag and the ubiquity of pcs...there's a slight chance I might post some photos while away. Then again, there's an equal chance I'll be tied up in a constant chain of sleeping, falling off a snowboard, eating and drinking to care.
Then again: knowing the Waldman history of lateness, invalid visas, and lost tickets and passports - there's a fair chance I could be in Surrey tonight to ashamed to say anything.
So, just a note to say thanks to all who have read/ contributed to this blog over the last year (even if you did just stumble here hoping to find out about Hitler or iPodbatterylife). Hope you all have a wonderful new year.

Breaking history into a thousand little pieces...

I just borrowed my Dad's complete 50+ CDs of This Sceptred Isle, going from 55 BC to 1999.
So, I did what any normal male with next to no time left before going off for Xmas would do: I ripped the whole lot and put it on my iPod.
Anyway, each CD, has about 20 tracks each of around 2 - 3 minutes. Which means the whole of British history is now neatly broken up into about 1,000 little bits.
It's great to listen to, but even better is putting the whole lot in a playlist, and then putting it on random play - the result is fantastic, the perfect version of history for butterfly minds like mine. It's surprisingly about followable, if a bit like bouncing around in a time machine.
Victoria's death. ping. Spithead mutineers. ping. Poll tax riots (first lot). ping. Industrial revolution. ping. Ethelred the something or other. ping.
Will keep me most entertained for many sleepless hours in future.

My top fives for 2003

Places
Robin Hood's Bay
South Africa
New York
Glastonbury
Whitstable

Books
Word Freak by Stefan Fatsis
The curious incident of the dog at nighttime by Mark Haddon
Supping with devils, Hugo Young
The future of ideas, Lawrence Lessig
errr...still thinking of the last one

Gigs
Underworld at Somerset House
Coldplay at v2003
Turin Brakes at Glastonbury
White Stripes at Brixton Academy
Libertines at Glastonbury

Films/ DVD
City of God
The Pianist
Far from Heaven
Dirty Pretty Things
About Schmidt
(I saw them this year - not sure about release dates)

TV
West Wing
Six Feet Under
Little Britain
Monkey Dust
Dawsons Creek - the finale

Web
Typepad
Esnipe
Oddpost
Bloglines
mySociety

CDs
Us by Mull Historical Society
O by Damian Rice
Frank by Amy Winehouse
Vehicles and Animals by Athlete
You can feel me by Har Mar Superstar

Posessions
Secondhand Nikon F90X and 20mm lens
30Gb iPod
Linksys wi-fi router
A5 Paperchase notebook (in conjunction with Pilot G-Tec C4 Pens)
Belkin i-Pod battery booster pack

Activities
Cycling
Sundays in the pub
Stoke Newington Farmers market
Blogging
Lunch at the Knosherie

(links and comments to follow)

How did that happen?

          

At a friend's wedding on Saturday, I was wielding my digital camera around with my normal enthusiasm. Most the pics were pretty standard, but towards the end (possibly when I could no longer hold the camera steady), some quite weird affects started to happen when I used the flash - as you can see here. I really like the one on the left of Bob, the groom, leaving. But don't think I could repeat it in a thousand years....

Strange google result..

My google referrers become stranger and stranger. While I'm slightly bemused to find myself at number 1 for iPod Battery Life (up from number 3...and frankly, there are much better places to go to find out about this), and number four for Jodie Marsh (come on...I've mentioned her once, in passing...). I'm now number 1 for 'The Strokes Anti Semitic'.
It's strange that I'm at the top ...but why was anyone searching for this anyway? Have I missed something? Are they? Does anyone think they are?
Meanwhile, I'm very glad to have fallen completely off the scale for Hitler (at one point, I was number 4...which frankly is a ranking I can do without).

mySociety.org names first projects

MySociety.org has announced its first set of projects.
If you want to know a bit more about this, you should read Tom Steinberg's piece in the Guardian from October.
I'm one of the advisors on MySociety, although I can claim precisely zero credit for it's spectacular success to date. I think both the idea and execution are quite wonderful and Tom deserves huge credit for making it happen.

My mouth hurts...

...it's just in that stage where the anaesthetic starts to wear off, and my lip's going all tingly, and real pain is starting to come through.
I found out yesterday that all was not well with a tooth of mine, so I've just had my first bit of root canal work. A couple of weeks ago a huge old filling fell out. Once I'd got over the shock, I realised I didn't feel anything, so didn't rush straight off to the dentist.
When I eventually turned up there yesterday, I was told the fact I didn't feel anything wasn't a good thing. In fact, it was a very bad thing. It meant the nerve was dead or something, and I had to go in asap for root canal work (cost = a lot).
This happens in two or three stages, and I've had the first stage today. An hour with my mouth rammed open, which, to be honest, only started to hurt at the end. MTV was on above me (Mis-teeq, Destiny's Child, Busted, Timberlake...then I started to drift off).
Anyway, over lunch, before this bit of major surgery, everyone had had root canal work done. It seems like it's some sort of middle age right of passage.
Round two - which is an hour and a half - is next week. Just before Xmas. I wonder if they'll let me bring in my own DVD to watch, or at least switch to the History Channel.

Oh I do like to be...

...in Aldeburgh a couple of weekends ago.

Iraq: it ain't over, till it's over

In the Guardian today, Ewen McAskill asks what happens now in Iraq. As most of the more intelligent commentators seemed to be saying yesterday as I snoozed in front of CNN and Sky, he says: "it will not end the violence against US-led forces."
And sure enough, this morning we already have car bombs exploding at two Iraqi police stations.
I don't want to rain on anyone's parade, but Saddam's capture - as excellent news as it is - has happened too late to result in any dramatic swing in fortunes for the the co-alition troops. There now appears to be (and this is only from what I've read) a well established network of resistance: not a simple hierarchy where you just cut of the head and everything else collapses.
As McAskill concludes:

"After eight months of fighting, US and British military intelligence do not know exactly who they are fighting: the insurgents remain in the shadows. Even with Saddam removed, it is difficult to beat an enemy who cannot be readily identified."

A weekend built on memories....

Two facts about my past that became relevant this weekend.

Friday: I used to DJ
Well, I should really have added the word 'try' in the middle of that phrase. I was a terrible DJ. I think that over several years of playing at various parties in various bars, homes and clubs (nothing at all professional, I probably did three good mixes. The rest of the time, it sounded like a drunk stumbling through rubbish bins.
At one point, I went by the name DJ Psymski - I promise you, this was ironic (Adamski..Normski...not serious..promise). Anyway, my one near claim to fame was that I was the first ever DJ at a Trees For London party (check the bottom of the roll of honour for proof). Trees is a quite brilliant party that was set up by a group of friends to do one thing: organise parties that raised money, so that trees could be planted in London.
Their first gig (where I played) was in a bar in Waterloo, but in the 10 years since then, they've filled various clubs around the capital (especially The Cross..which was for a long time our weekend destination of choice), along with a few excellent summer cruises and other nights of fun. DJs have included Matt Brown (Sancho Panza), Groove Armada and Rocky and Deisel as well as various friends and family).
It was their Xmas party on Friday, and so off we went to the Key (which is part of what used to be Bagleys). Trees parties are always good, but this was excellent. It's what Time Out used to euphemistically call 'The Older-Up-For-It crowd'. Which means a club where everyone isn't 20 years younger than you (as happened on a trip to Shindig in Newcastle the other week).

Saturday: I used to play guitar in a jazz band

The Bran Flakes. Live from Fulham

It was a trad jazz band, called Fat Cat, that played at various college balls and posh people's 18ths / 21sts. When I say 'play', I used to stand at the back and strum something close to the right chords. The only reason I was in it, was because one of my flat mates at college in Bristol was in it (it was a group of his old school friends), and one New Years Eve, he invited me and my guitar along. After that, I stayed in the band for a while, mainly, I think because I had a car.
Eventually, we split up. mainly due to dramatic differences in musical ability. A few were so fantastic they went professional. A couple of us were so rubbish it was time to move on. (Frankly, there are only so many times you can play the wrong chords to 'Oh When The Saints...' in front of a gang off drunk, black-tie clad Hoorays and retain your dignity). And another couple migrated to a rival band also from their school called the Bran Flakes.
Anyway, the Bran Flakes were playing on Saturday downstairs at the Troubadour in Fulham (Fulham!!!). My old flatmate (more of him later) asked me a few weeks ago if I'd DJ. I knew I'd be shabby from the night before, so said yes, as it wouldn't be that frantic.
They were very good, if you like that sort of thing (that's them in the picture above). My DJing - now updated for CD-mixing - was as crap as ever but went down ok (this was Fulham, remember, they wouldn't know the difference). Even when I went all Xmas-y and started playing Elvis (repeat comment about Fulham).
My old flatmate however, is now a minor character in some soap stranded in the nether regions of the schedules and people have started to recognise him. At one point at the end of the evening, we were chatting telling each other how great the other was ('Great DJing'...'No, you were great.'...'No,. I mean it,,' ... 'No, so do I'). When this woman, who frankly looked old enough to know better, barged in, nudged me to one side and said to my mate: 'Excuse me...I just wanted to say...I think you're great...and do you mind...I don't normally do this (yeah right!)....but can I kiss you on the lips really quickly...will your girlfriend mind?'
Being a gent, he let her. Personally, I think this counts as working at the weekend, and should be avoided.

And the motto to this story?
1. Give money to Trees for London - it's an excellent cause. Or at least join their mailing list so you can find out about their next party.
2. Never ask me to DJ. At anything. Ever.
3. If you see me talking to a minor celebrity: please be polite. If you want to kiss him on the lips, that's fine, just don't shove me out the way.
4. The Branflakes are available for weddings, bar mitzvahs and coming out parties. Helps if you like the Jungle Book.