I just watched Parallel universes, parallel lives, the program about E's discovery of his father. It was brilliant, not only because Eels music was played throughout. There was one part near the end, where E had opened some boxes of his father's papers and found some tapes. The tapes were an old format so he had to have them converted before they could be heard. He played a couple at random. Over his father's voice you could clearly hear a young E playing his drum kit. On another there was a recording of the family cat purring and the voice of a very young child, introducing himself as the great Mark Oliver Everett. It was very moving.

Naturally, things the grandchildren should know was played at the end, with closing credits to I like birds.

As a bonus, although I'd already read a little about Hugh Everett III's parallel universe theory, I now understand the concept.

I've just arrived home from a night in Newcastle with Peter. It was our first night out this year (we think) and it was long overdue, but it was cool. Peter's a bit paranoid about Metro times though. I mean, in the time he'd walked down from Centurion to the Metro station (30 seconds I'd estimate), I'd finished my pint of beer (which, in a break from the norm, Peter didn't), had a wee, then still had time for a half hour (ok, so it was probably a minute or two less) chat before his Metro arrived.

After seeing Peter onto his Metro I caught one myself to Gateshead interchange, then a bus to my hill. I called into the Tuns for the (once traditional) obligatory (free) pint and had a chat with Paul and Michael (whom I've not really seen in months). I now need to look for a power cable of some sort on ebay; it's written on the back of my hand so I should find one. I think Michael needs one. At least I hope he does.

Oh, updates may be sparse for a bit (and the web page may need to change); I now mainly use my new (gorgeous) laptop so I need to find a suitable Linux blog program.

Meanwhile, in the words (word? There's only one) of Madness' Las Palmas 7, 'Goodnight' (hum if you know the tune).

Last night I slept in my eldest grandchild's bed. Well, the one at Phil's house. She wasn't there of course. Apparently, Ian, Phil and I had been in a bar until four in the morning and, although I can't be certain, I think we had a good night. I'm starting to feel human again now.

I have an Asus eee. It's tiny, wireless, runs linux, and it's beautiful.

Oh, and it's cheap too.

Monday, 26th, BBC4, 9pm, Parallel universes, parallel lives ... it's not to be missed.

Rich seems to have started unwittingly started something ... from Sandy ... a man of no means ...

I've opened the second one ... I'm now feeling very I've started so I'll finish. I may suffer tomorrow.

I've been feeling very miserable tonight. It's not remotely connected to inhalation of 1830/1980s plaster dust though; I think I'm actually becoming immune (although I fear the old lime mortar may be dissolving my nose). I'm just feeling miserable. The first of the two bottles of (very nice) Qmp Kabinett that Paula bought me the other day has helped a little, but I'm still not out of it yet. The second bottle might just do the job, though I fear I'll fall over half-way through it. This probably isn't the best time to be looking at laptops on ebay.

Eels tickets are already on Ebay for up to ninety quid. I hope no one pays so much; it's a complete rip-off. Fortunately, I have mine.

Cool eh?

And a UK EEls tour too. You'd think it couldn't get any better. But of course it can; Eels at the Sage, Gateshead. Imagine, the Eels virtually at the bottom of my street.

.

Made better progress today, slightly less mess and considerably reduced sneezing.

My nose is running like a tap even though I wore a dust mask the past couple of days while knocking plaster off the bedroom wall. I'd hate to imagine what it would be like if I'd not worn one. Still, I'm making progress ...

It's actually a lot larger than it looks in the picture. Quite gothic, isn't it?

A follow-up text from Rich (someone must actually read this):

I ain't got no cigarettes

When on the Metro from Sunderland tonight, I had the coolest ever text from Phil: Trailers for sale or rent.

That was it. Well, I thought it was cool. I concede that not many people would.

Of course I replied with the next line.

Although I stopped counting birthdays a few years ago, something special could make me look forward to my next one. Yes, the Sugababes are playing in Newcastle on my birthday.